#also ''deep in the darkest night''! it's so good!

[ncttytrack]

Favorite Flavor - p.sh (m)

Every little dirty story that revolved around older men you read that night, you thought about him. Since that day, your deepest darkest fantasy was your crush on Park Sunghoon, your best friend's dad. 

Summary: You loved your best friend, and you have known each other for a long time. But as you grow older, so does your attraction for her dad, Park Sunghoon.

Genre: Smut, Best-friends-dad!Sunghoon x reader

Words: 5.5k+

Warnings: Huge age gap (reader is 20 and Sunghoon is 38) Don't like - don't read, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!reader, creampie, reader has an age kink

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

You genuinely have the best friend ever. The first day you met each other was all the way back when you were twelve years old. All your classmates had decided to make you the new victim of their bullying, resulting in you not having any friends for the first two weeks of school. Until one day when your now best friend decided to sit with you at lunch. Being unsure of yourself, you had a problem opening up to her. Is she sitting with me to make fun of me? But you were wrong, so wrong. You talked the whole lunch period, making jokes and talking about your interests. That's when you found out that you both liked manga, and that she had a big collection at home that she wanted to show you. 

She invited you to her home later the same week, and you were beyond excited. It was a long time ago since you were invited to someone's house, that was not your aunt, or some other family member. You remember that you stood in front of her door, eagerly, waiting for her to open the door you just knocked on. 

And that's when you met him. 

The person opening your friend's door was indeed not your friend, but someone much older, and ofcourse, manlier. The door swung open and there was a man standing in front of you. He looked at first glance tall and slender, probably because of the clothes that he was wearing, a thick hoodie and a pair of sweats. His hair, which was black, was not close to styled - and it actually looked like he just woke up from a deep slumber. His face however was beautiful, not that you thought about that at the ripe age of twelve, but you still remembered how pretty he was. His lips were pink and plump, and his nose was big and pronounced, decorated with a mole on the side of it. During this time, he was rather young, around 28, so your first initial thought was that he was her older brother. It was weird, she never mentioned an older brother, and it never occurred to you that she had one?

“Oh, hi! You must be y/n, Im Sunghoon, Yeris dad!” The first thing that you could think of is how young her dad looked. Did he just look young for his age, or was he actually in his late twenties. Before the situation could get anymore awkward, beacuse you didn’t have the courage to answer the gorgeous man in front of you, Yeri ran and pushed her dad away from you and grabbed your hand to lead you up to her room. While you two walked away, your hand still in hers, you looked back at Sunghoon still standing in the doorway. 

That was your first encounter with Mr. Park, and when you were a kid you didn’t think that much of him. Yeah, he looked good for the average dad, but that's what he was: your best friend's dad. Even thinking he was attractive was so morally wrong in your head, so you didn’t let the thoughts get to you. You did however remember how popular he was amongst the other moms, especially your own. It was also then you discovered that he was in fact super young, being 16 when he got Yeri. You could hear your mom talking for hours about how brave Mr. Park was for taking care of a child from such an early age, despite the fact that the mom left when he and Yeri were 18 and 2 years old. You can’t imagine how much work that must have been for him, both having to think about his studies and his two year old child. 

It wasn't until you became 16 that Sunghoon had an effect on you. When you're 16 years old, you are well into puberty and the effect it has on you, both physically and mentally. In the same rapid speed your body got grown, so did your mind as well. Suddenly a guy was not only 'good looking', but put you in a position to sweat and turn red - just by the thought of being in the same room. It didn’t even need to be one specific guy, suddenly you found yourself being attracted to a lot more. Before, when you were glancing at a male classmate's hand, you didn’t think much of it. But now the veins, the bone and the soft skin made it too hard for you to concentrate. 

You clearly remembered the first day you looked at your best friend's dad the same way you did for the boys at your school. It was in the middle of the summer break and you decided to visit Yeri at her place. The sun was out and it was almost criminal how hot it was. If you didn't wear the light clothing you wore, you would totally be drenched in disgusting sweat by the time you got there. Your house was not that far, resulting in you always going by bike during all weathers to get to her place. The bike rack was by the side of the garden, and that's where you always put your bike when arriving. That’s when you saw Mr. Park in a state you never had seen him in before. He sawed planks with a massive chainsaw, which was probably several kilograms. His sweat was glistering in the sun, making his white tank top almost see through, and you curse yourself for staring at his hot worked out stomach. His arms were pumped up, and dirty from all the work. The sweat made his hair wet, making it stick to his forehead, before bringing up his hand, pushing the hair back. You are glad that he didn’t see you gawking at him, because that would be utterly embarrassing. 

The thing only got worse when your new interest in fanfiction made you realize your darkest fantasies. You had heard from Yeri that you could read stories about your favorite anime characters, and imagine that they were real and that they knew you. What she did not mention however, was that you could find so much more than that. You don’t even want to talk about what you used to read, but you could addmit that it was nasty, and utterly addicting. It started off light, even the slightest makeout story making your body tingle, but it came to a point when that wasn’t enough. So you searched for more, not knowing what it would lead to. It was then you found a story about having an inappropriate relationship with an older man, and it only went downhill from there. What was the problem however was the fact that the fanfiction could be written about anybody, but it couldn't stop you from thinking about Mr. Park. So that's what you did. Every little dirty story that revolved around older men you read that night, you thought about him. Since that day, your deepest darkest fantasy was your crush on Park Sunghoon, your best friend's dad.  

It wasn’t long until you were 18 years old, and you of course celebrated it with your family, and your best friend's. The big birthday cake, chocolate flavored, with all the eighteen candles was in front of you, and you were wearing one of those silly party cones on top of your head. They sang for you and you were the only one sitting down. You looked at the lit candles, getting ready to blow them out when the song was over. “Don’t forget to wish for something”, you hear a voice say that you have heard too many times to not recognize. You look up at Sungoon and smile at him. “I will '', you say with a small smile, nervously gulping down your saliva before looking down at the cake again. You close your eyes and blow out the candles, knowing exactly what you are going to wish for. After you opened your eyes, Yeri gave you a big side-hug before jokingly saying, “Omg! Now that you are 18 you can finally fool around with older men that you have read about without catching a case!”. Embarrassed, you lightly punch her shoulder and laugh nervously while tugging your hair behind your ear. You silently hoped that Sunghoon didn’t hear her, but by the look on his face, he certainly did. 

It was the same day but later, and a lot more people were in your house celebrating your birthday. Including some friends you finally have scrabbed together over the last six years. Because you finally could drink alcohol, at least legally, it didn’t stop you from doing so, making you right now extremely drunk. It was dark inside the house, with disco lights spreading throughout the room and you craved another drink. You wobbled towards the cabinet to grab the last vodka bottle, but right as you picked it up, a hand stopped you from going further. You looked irritated beside you, only to be met by Sunghoon. “I think you should slow down a little”. You look at him annoyed, trying to get the bottle back from his hands. But Sunghoon held the bottle so high above his head that you couldn't reach it, having to stand on your toes to even be close. Suddenly Sunghoon grabbed your arm with his other hand, bringing it down by force and close to his chest, dragging you in close to him. You breath hitched because you were super close, and he slowly brought down the bottle and put it on the table behind him. Before the liquid courage would force you any further, you backed away from him. “I think I am a little tired, I should rest ”you say and run up to your room. 

What you did not know however, was that you had left your phone on the same table where Sunghoon put the vodka. He knew that it was wrong, but he could not stop thinking about what his daughter had said earlier. What older men had you read about exactly? What if you were talking to someone and you were in danger. He wouldn't let an older guy take advantage of you like that. He did know your iphone code, he had accidentally seen you tap it in some days before, and luckily he remembered the numbers. He sneakily brought up your phone, and unlocked it. Right as he opened it a notification popped up from an app called wattpad. What’s that? He thought, as he opened the app. Right as he opened it he wished he didn’t, because now he could exactly see what you had been reading over the past two years. The stories were filthy, and so were the age gaps, all the characters were even older than him. He couldn't look at it anymore, not believing that a girl like you could read something like that. What he did know now however, is how difficult it will be to act normal around you. 

And oh, it was. Now you are 20, and over the last two years, from the day you turned 18 to now when you were 20, he acted weird towards you. Not that you knew why, because you never saw, that he saw what you had been getting off of over the past years. And he was getting cocky, I mean he knew that he was hot, and the stares that he would give you over the dinner table when you were with your friend was almost too much for you to bear.

Today was a hot summer day, and you were laying by the pool in your friend's backyard. It was the first day of summer, and you have always celebrated it with Yeri, even after you both graduated from high school. When you both were as young as 15, she smuggled in a bottle of alcohol to drink, not caring that it was clearly illegal. Of course you never get caught, Yeri makes Sunghoon go away for the day every year so he doesn’t interrupt your fun. Over the last years you had always covered your body, never wanting to show it. Even when it was only you and your friend, you wanted your t-shirt over your swimsuit to cover you even when swimming. It wasn’t because you were insecure about your appearance, you didn’t think much of it, but maybe it was for private reasons. But this time, it was different. 

Last night your friend called to make the not-so-awful news that her dad is not leaving for the day like he usually does, which means he is going to be there. You try to act disappointed on the phone, but you were far from disappointed. Quickly after the call ended, you searched through your closet trying to find something as close to a bikini. As you start to lose hope, you see the perfect one, a blue halter neck bikini with a low-waist bottom. You bought it a few years ago and you never had the chance to wear it. But now you did. 

When you greeted Mr. Park in the backyard you were already wearing it, making sure that your boobs were pushed up into the small bikini top. Throughout the day you had tried to do anything to get Sunghoons attention, but nothing seemed to work. That's when you got an idea. You laid by the pool and decided that you wanted to go top-less to sunbathe your back. Sunghoon could not stop staring at you from the barbeque-grill when you laid down on your stomach, carefully removed your bikini-top without flashing your tits, and relaxed against the sunbed. He almost burned the meat from staring at you. Did she do this on purpose? He did remember the things he saw on your phone on your 18th birthday, how could he forget?

Feeling way too hot, you decided to put on your bikini top again and head inside to cool off and grab some water from the fridge. As you open the fridge to take your drink, your thoughts get disturbed by a voice coming from behind you. “What do you think you are doing?”, you turn around looking at Sunghoon innocently and dumbfounded. He better not think he will get to you this easily. “What are you talking about, can’t I get a drink?”. Sunghoons sighs, put his hands on his hips and looks to the side. His foot is tapping fast on the ground. He is stressed. And his tongue pokes his inner-cheek. And irritated. You slowly walk to him, and tilt your head to the side. You look at him and scrunch your eyebrows, making you look clueless to what he is accusing you for. “Are you angry at me? I mean no harm, I am just your daughter's best friend”. He sighs and looks away for a second, before looking back at you with a smile. Right, Yeris best friend, he internally says to himself. It was a dumb thought that she did all that on purpose. “Of course you can take a drink, I’m just messing with you” he says and walks away. 

It has been two weeks since you talked to Sunghoon, avoiding him at all costs out of embarrassment. You can’t believe what had gotten into you that day. It is three in the morning and Yeri is already asleep beside you. That's when you hear the front door open. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon wasn’t home, and why did he get home this late? Suddenly you hear more than one pair of footsteps, it sounds like someone is with him. Did he bring someone home? Out of curiosity you carefully walk out of the bed Yeri is sleeping on, and towards the bedroom door to see what is going on. And that’s when you see her. It’s a woman. Sunghoon really did bring someone home. And it wasn’t anyone, it was a woman his age, which means she was nothing close to you. You silently watch them, how they intensely makeout with each other and walk into Sunghoons room, closing the door. You can’t stop yourself, and walk after them. 

You lean towards his bedroom door and you can hear the sounds coming from their fun. The huffs, the puffs and the moans. You hear how the woman is calling for Sunghoons name, and that he should go faster and harder. The ache in your stomach grew bigger and bigger at her words, until you heard Sunghoons voice through the bedroom door. He sounds demanding, ordering her around, making her begg. Your body trembles, and you can feel your core getting wetter and wetter with any second. You have never heard Sunghoon like this, and you can’t get enough of it. You need more, your body can't physically leave.

Still listening, you slide down to the ground, your body still leaning against the door. You tilt your head back and take a deep breath as you slide in your hand in your panties. The fingers lightly touch against your wet core as you concentrate on Sunghoons demands, imagining that he is talking to you, that you are the woman he is messing around with in his bedroom. Your fingers slide in your pussy, imagining it is Sunghoon's cock roaming inside of you, stretching you out. While doing so, you use your thumb to massage your clit, bringing you closer to your release. It’s when you hear Sunghoons harsh demeanor switch to beautiful moans that you can’t take it anymore. As Sunghoon comes, so do you, making your hand completely coated with your own cum. What the fuck are you doing?You instantly get embarrassed, and run away as fast as possible to your friend's bedroom before you can get caught. The idea of washing your hands disappears when you hear the bedroom door open again. 

It is five am, two hours after the ‘incident’, and you haven't slept throughout the whole night. How could you? The only thing you have thought about was the fact that you masturbated to your best friends dad, fucking. Not being able to wait for Yeri to wake up, you decide to go to the kitchen to eat something, and maybe wash your still cum-coated hand. Just as you were about to open the refrigerator, Sunghoon came out of the bathroom door. You turned around and instantly gaped at the sight. Sunghoon had just showered, only wearing a towel that was extremely low on his waist. He looks so sexy with his hair wet, and you can’t help but imagine what he would look like without that towel. "Y/n!" What are you doing this late?” He says looking at you embarrassed. She didn’t hear me earlier, right? Not being able to answer, you bite your lips and look down on your feet. You don’t know how to face him after you heard him earlier, and what you did while listening to him. He cocks an eyebrow, getting suspicious by the way you are acting and he walks towards you. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up before?” He says, trying to bite back a smile. “Ah, it’s okay…” you say, still looking down. This can’t possibly be happening right now. He gets closer to you now, so close you can smell the lavender soap he used while showering. “Oh so you did? Probably listened on purpose” He says and laughs teasingly, forgetting that you are his daughter's best friend, and not some random woman he met at the bar. 

You look up at him to protest, only then noticing how close he is to you. Your hands come in front of your chest to bring some space between you and Sunghoon. “No I did not-”, before you can continue your pathetic statement, Sunghoon grabs your arm and lifts it up. He looks at your right hand, examines it, before to your surprise putting your fingers into his mouth. That was the fingers you touched yourself with earlier. You feel his tongue taste the cum of from your fingers. He takes out your fingers out of his mouth, licks his lips and looks at you with a teasing pout. “Aww did you touch yourself when you heard us? Did you get off? Did you finish?” He says, speaking to you as if you were a baby. You don’t know what you are going to say, deny? No, he already knows. Denying by now would only be foolish for you to do. It seems like the only thing for you to do is to stay quiet. The way you do not respond is enough for Sunghoon to understand the situation. He tilts his head to the side, using his other hand to tuck the hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin gently. Making sure to not hurt you. 

“Don’t act so clueless, I know what filth you are reading. Your best friend's dad hm? How dirty of you.” You look up at him, biting your lips, almost trembling with fear for what he is about to do. What if you are not ready to live out the fantasies you almost always had about your best friend's dad. “You are so cute”. Sunghoon swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, gently, getting more rough by time with his touch. His thumb slowly enters your mouth, first playing with your bottom teeth, before making contact with your tongue. He looks at you with furrowed brows and an expression that could only be described as arousal. 

His thumb is completely inside of your mouth, and you begin to suck on his thumb like it was his cock, looking up in his eyes. The rest of his hand is tightly grabbing your face, making you stuck on his thumb. He tilts his head back and sucks in his breath. “Just like that baby, soon you are ready for the big thing” He says teasingly. Suddenly you hear footsteps coming from Yeris' room. Quickly Sunghoon slides his thumb out of your mouth and runs back into the backroom. You quickly make your way to the refrigerator, acting naturally, looking for an early breakfast. Yeri steps into the kitchen and looks at you. “Are you seriously looking for food at five in the morning?”. You look back at her, kinda feeling bad since she doesn’t know what just happened. “Yeah, I got hungry.” You say, before grabbing yogurt from the fridge.

It’s Friday, two weeks after you sucked off Sunghoons thumb in his kitchen. Even though the natural thing to do after something like this is to avoid him at all cost, but since he is your best friend's dad, you can’t.

You are sitting with Yeri and Sunghoon in the kitchen by the table, eating dinner. Eating dinner with the Parks has always been something you enjoyed, but this is getting awkward. Sunghoon can’t even look at you, and you two have not been talking to each other since you got here. Not that Yeri seems to notice, she is all up in her own world talking about the latest anime she had seen. You try to concentrate on her word, doing your best to respond, but you can’t resist looking at her dad. You are such a horrible friend. 

When you are done eating, you put the dishes in the sink. Normally both you and Yeri would help each other out with the dishes, but she chose to take a shower today instead of helping you. She claimed that she hasn’t showered for two days and needs her one hour shower immediately. You let her get away with it, this time at least, and decide to do the dishes yourself and be a good friend for once.

You are hand washing the plate clean, and drying it with a towel on the counter in front of you. The Parks keep their plates on the highest level of cabinet, which is difficult for you to reach, making you struggle. That is until you feel a hand grabbing the plate above your head, putting it in the right place. You already know who it is, and because of the incident that happened two weeks before, you don’t have the stomach to say anything. Your breath gets heavy, knowing that the figure behind you is your best friend's hot dad, making you weak in the knees just thinking about him. His hand suddenly appears on your waist. “It seemed like you needed help with the plate,” Sunghoon says while giving your waist a squeeze, earning you a small squeak. He leans into your neck and rubs his nose deep, smelling you, taking in your scent of adolescence. He parts his lips and gently places them on the back of your neck, gently kissing you up your neck to your ear. He bites your earlobe making you hiss. It’s all going extremely slow, and it’s obvious that he is teasing you. One of his hands is still on your waist, while the other is slowly going under your shirt creeping up your stomach, soon meeting your breast. Sunghoon is still kissing your neck when he grabs one of your tits, gently massaging it, occasionally giving it a squeeze which makes your back arch.

It's when you moan when Sunghoon suddenly stops, he takes his hands out of your shirt and puts them on your hips, still behind you. “We can’t do this y/n”. You look back at him. His face is flushed and his hair is messy. “You are my daughter's best friend. You are 18 years younger than me.” You are still looking at him, frustrated. You need him, now. You can't wait any longer. “No Sunghoon, Please, I need you to fuck me” You pathetically pleading to the older man. Suddenly his hold on your waist tightens and he pushes his clothed cock towards your ass, making you feel him. You gasp, pushing your ass back harder on his hard cock. “This is how you make me feel y/n, this. I can’t be around you. And doing this will only make it worse.” Despite his words he doesn’t stop grinding into you, af if he can’t. Only the feeling of his cock pressed on your ass is making you tilt your head back out of pleasure, leaning on his shoulder. You look up at him with pleading eyes “Please Hoon, I need you, I need your big cock”. He turns you around with force, making you face him. His big hand grabs both of your wrists pinning them above your head on the cabinet. His other hand pushes you up, being strong enough to make you sit on the counter just by the sink. Before you could say anything he grabs your chin and kisses you roughly. You let his tongue take completely over your mouth, and it almost hurts how wide your mouth is open. His tongue is deep in your mouth, showing dominance in not letting you breathe until he lets you. 

He then pushes your mouth away from his, “Have you ever sucked someone off before, baby?” He says, his hand still pining your wrists. Not lying, you nod your head. He looks down at you and chuckles. “Of course you have, you dirty slut”. He says and lets go of your wrists, and pushes you on your knees in front of him. He unbuckles his belt, and drops down his pants to let his cock free. He is massive, and you can see the preecum leaking out of it. The sight makes your thighs squeeze together, something he noticed and loves. You look up at him, waiting for him to give you his orders, so you can follow him like his peasant. He smirks and licks his bottom lip, before biting it. He takes a fistfull of your hair, using it to control you and lower you towards his hard cock. You begin to lightly lick the tip, teasing him, before wrapping your mouth around the top of his cock. Sunghoon breathes out and tilts his head back “Ah, baby, just like that”. Looking up at him seeing how affected he gets by your mouth makes you even hornier, making you lean down on his cock even more. You remove his cock from his mouth to spit on it, which makes Sunghoon inpatient. He grabs our hair harder this time, and tilts your head up. “Open your mouth, slut” He says with a stern voice, and you follow his command. You open your mouth and he spits in it, making you moan at the ill treatment. You feel his spit sliding down your throat. He then slams his cock into your mouth, making you suck on it. He moans again at the feeling of your mouth, making you moan as well, vibrating his cock in your mouth. 

Just as you think he is about to cum, he slides his dick out of you, and makes you stand up. “Why did you stop?” you plead, wanting him to use you as his mouth slut. He grabs your waist and makes you sit on the counter behind you. He takes off your shirt, as well as his, as you take off your pants. “I want to feel you before i cum”, His hand slides over your clothed pussy, and he can feel your wetness through the fabric. You tilt your head back, leaning against the cabinet. The feeling of his fingers lightly teasing your clothed clit makes you moan. “You want me to touch you that bad, baby?” he says and looks at you with big deer eyes. You whine out a yes, before his hand rips off your panties and touches your folds. “So wet for me already, did you get turned on that easily by sucking on daddy's cock?” The sight in front of him could make him cum alone. Your makeup is smudged, and your lips are covered in drool from all the sucking and kissing. Just the way you look at him, tells him how much you want him to get you off. His fingers finally slip into your tight hole, and you moan at the feeling. But it's not enough, you need his cock, and you need it before your best friend comes back. 

“I need you Sunghoon, please I can’t wait any longer”, not having time to make fun of you, he has done that already by now, he quickly pulls his fingers out of you and brings his cock to your entrance. 

He grabs his cock and slaps your pussy making you let out a loud groan. He knows he is massive, and makes sure to be extra careful with your fragile little body. You both let out a relieving moan at the same time as he pushes all of him into you. The feeling makes Sunghoon almost collapse, having to tilt his head on your shoulder. Your legs wrap around his waist to push him even more into you, making sure that you can take everything he has to offer. Because of the risk of getting caught, Sunghoon doesn’t waste a second before fucking himself into you, pushing his cock in and out of you in a rapid pase, almost too fast for you too handle. His hand is still by your neck, biting you to muffle any moans coming out of his plump lips hitting a sweet spot. This makes you moan, and grab his hair to stabilize yourself. Feeling close, you bring your hand down to draw circles on your clit. Sunghoon suddenly slaps your hand away to replace it with his own, making him do the work for you. Because of the foreplay, it’s not long until you cum, and by the time his hard steady thrusts become sloppier, and sloppier you know he is close too. He comes into your pussy, and slides his cock out of you, looking down at your drenched pussy leaking out his cum. 

It’s then he looks at you with a stressed expression. “We need to clean up before Yeri comes back”. So that’s what you do. Sunghoon uses his shirt to clean you up, and help you put your clothes back on. You quickly do the dishes, getting help from Sunghoon putting it in the cabinet. After you have cleaned yourselves, and the kitchen, Sunghoon looks at you with regret in his eyes. “You didn’t do this because you felt pressured, did you? I’m older than you and would have easily taken advantage of you if I wanted to”. You look at him, smile, and walk up to him. You stand on your toes to reach up to his level and kiss his cheek, stabilizing yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders. You lean into his ear and whisper, “You are forbidden fruit Sunghoon, which happens to be my favorite flavor”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

I hoped you enjoyed this one-shot! Feel free to send requests. It can be everything from a one-shot request, to a hard thought that you want me to comment on 🥴.

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[lis-likes-fics]

The Dragon's Wife

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x bride!Reader Word Count: 4k words Kink: Breeding Warnings: NSFW, noncon, dark content, fingering, p in v, slight cum eating, first time, humiliation, crying kink, biting, multiple force orgasms, forced breeding, creampie, A/N: Happy Kinktober, everyone! I think this may be the darkest thing I've ever written, in terms of this is my first noncon. If you catch any warning I missed, please let me know. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this and the rest of my prompts for kinktober! Find the main masterlist here. Also A/N: I had to respost this shit twice but Tumblr fucking sucks and is hiding it. I hate this website sometimes... Enjoy!

The large doors of Daemon's bed chambers shut behind you with a damning thud. Still wrapped in your wedding gown, the events of the night were still very fresh in your mind.

You were angry, outraged by the dishonor done upon you. Like some broodmare, your father gave you away to the Targaryen prince in need of a new wife after the last had passed "suspiciously".

It was humiliating, to say the least. You had produced no heirs for your house and "talked too much for your own good". Your father jumped at the chance to have this brute of a prince tame you. Perhaps you would be a "respectable lady".

But you would give neither of them the satisfaction.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at the door all night?" Daemon's voice spoke behind you, exhausted by you already.

You sighed. "Better than looking at you, dear husband."

You could hear his footsteps against the hard floors as he stepped closer to you. "Someone ought to teach you some respect."

You turned to face him so he could see the way you rolled your eyes. "Apparently, that's meant to be your job…seeing that I am now wed to you."

He gave you a hard look, his gaze dark and dangerous as his eyes rake up and down your body. A long silence filled the space between you as you stared one another down.

"Come here," he commanded, his tone stern but his voice quiet. yet

"No."

He tilted his head and a wicked smile took over his face. Amusement lit up within his eyes as a new goal took over him. He took a couple more steps toward you, stalking closer like some predator to its prey as he sized you up.

"Perhaps I will teach you some respect."

A chill ran down your spine, but you refused to stand down as you glared at him. He stood before you, raising a hand to touch your cheek. You smacked it away. "Don't touch me."

He breathed a laugh, looking you up and down. You moved to take a step back, to put more space between the two of you as an unsettling feeling settled into your skin.

But before you could lift your foot, his hand was wrapping firmly around your throat and pulling you close to him. You gasped out of shock, bringing your hands up to his own to pry it off of you as you stared wide-eyed at him.

"Such strong will you've got," he said, sighing deeply. "I wonder how easy it would be to break it." Your breath was shallow as you clenched your jaw. He hummed, moving his hand up in a harsh trail to your jaw, where his thumb and fingers dug into your flesh and made you hiss from the pain. "Your job is to produce my heirs, little cat, nothing more. You will do as I say."

You huffed. "I am not a whore."

"No," he said. "But you are my wife now…and you will breed if I say you will."

"I will not."

He laughed, a loud one deep in his chest as he pulled you closer by your neck. You were trembling in his grasp, the stubbornness turning to fear as his eyes trailed your face and stopped at your lips.

"You don't have a choice."

He shoved you away, and you stumbled to the ground. You stood quickly, trying to put more distance between you. But you had nowhere to go. You watched as he slowly advanced.

He backed you against the large table in his chambers, the wood digging uncomfortably into your back. He trapped you, grabbing roughly at your waist and regarding you with a primal grin.

"Wait," you begged, leaning back as you grabbed the table for support. "Wait, please. I'm sorry." He pulled back slightly, looking over you as he took in this new sense of fright. You swallowed thickly, staring at him as you trembled, tears pricking at your eyes and threatening to spill. You sighed shakily. "Please don't."

You received no sympathy as a wolfish grin took his face. "Look at you," he teased, laughing again as his hand found your neck again. "Not as strong as I thought then."

His lips crashed down upon yours, a bruising kiss that had lips mashing with teeth, breaking skin and filling your mouth with the taste of blood. You tried to push him away, grabbing at his arms and peeling them off you only for him to grab you again in a rougher grip than before.

You whined against his lips, still trying and failing to push him away from you. He lifted your chin, his hot breath enveloping your neck as he bared his teeth, burying them in your throat and making you yelp.

You grabbed at his hand uselessly. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your blood pump furiously beneath your skin. Desperate to remove him from you, you managed to shove him away with your foot. He stumbled backwards. You took no time to catch your breath as you turned to run. You didn't know where you were going, but you ran.

Daemon watched with an amused smirk, wiping his mouth and advancing toward you again. You hardly got far before his hand was hooking around your neck and pulling you right back against him, your back flush against his front as his hot mouth and breath lingered at your ear.

"I stand corrected," he purred, biting your earlobe.

You shuddered under his grasp. "Please," he watched a tear slip down your cheek. "Don't hurt me."

"Oh," he breathed, pressing his lips against the crook of your shoulder and savoring the way you closed your eyes and whined. "Where's the fun in that?"

He held your body against his own with a tight grasp around you, his arms wrapped around your body and over your arms as his hands roamed your figure hungrily.

It all happened so fast. And he was so uninterested before, you admit, you had become a little cocky with your words the more comfortable you became with your detest for him. You never expected anything like this to happen—although you probably should have.

His hands found the neckline of your dress, and with a monstrous tear, he ripped it down the middle until it pooled in rags around you. He removed each layer from you like some beast tearing the flesh from a quivering animal with its sharpened tooth.

And when you were bare, another rush of adrenaline filled your veins and built another fight in you, a fire that would soon be overcome by a larger, more furious one.

"Daemon, stop!" you shouted in false bravado, kicking your feet to get him away, only to feed his hunger for this enticing hunt you created.

His large hand groped your breast, and you clenched your eyes shut at the sensation of it. You were trapped, and you couldn't do anything about it as he walked you to the table and shoved you to lay on it. Your cheek pressed against the wood, and you could almost swear you felt splinters poking at your skin. But the wood was so smooth, you could have been imagining it.

He bent down, confining you once more as his lips and tongue and teeth clashed with the skin of the back of your neck, your shoulder, your back. He licked and sucked and bit until you were sure you'd be covered in bruises, the marks of his claim coloring your skin red and purple by morning.

"You taste magnificent, little cat," he purred before biting your earlobe once more. A cold tear ran down your cheek as you shuddered, and a dark chuckle slipped from his chest. "Such beautiful tears you've got. Like crystals."

You yelped as his hand smacked down on your ass, gripping the flesh immediately after in a vice grip that burned.

Your whole body jerked when you felt his fingers press between your thighs to feel your cunt, baring your teeth and biting back another whimper. "Oh, that's no good," he remorsed, acknowledging the lack of slickness between your thighs as his crude fingers continued to feel you. "We'll just have to fix that. You do not want to take this dry, I'll tell you that. Especially not when you're this tight. You've needed a good fucking, haven't you, little cat?"

You could hear the smirk on his voice, and it made your skin prickle, a chill running down your spine that soured and turned to fire in your belly when he shoved two fingers inside of you. You clenched around him and tried to hide your face away on the table.

"Daemon, please," you begged. "Please, please, please."

He thrust them deeper, exploring more of you as he listened to your stifled moans and cries. "I know, little thing. You don't want my fingers inside of you… you want my cock, don't you?"

You shivered as another cry shook you at that. He continued, "You do. I can see it. You want my hard cock inside of you, you need it." He shoved his fingers in deeper, adding a third that curled harshly inside you and allowed waves of arousal to coat his fingers. "You need my thick cock in your tight little cunt to fill you with my dragonborn sons and daughters."

He kept thrusting, his pace picking up faster and harder as he set a cruel rhythm. You couldn't help clenching around him, opposing the invasion as the searing pleasure tore through your body.

"You were so confident," he said, his voice suddenly right next to your ear, "until I got my hands on you. You were just begging for someone to put you in your place."

You gripped the edge of the table, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear, let the Stranger take you away from this cruel world and deliver you to sleep.

"Look at you," he snickered, pulling his hand from you with a sickening squelch. "Wetting my hands like a common whore. Perhaps you needed this more than I realized."

Your legs trembled, and you wrapped your arms around your head to cover your face, to hide away from him. You startled when you felt his hand reach out and comb through your hair, starting from the beginning of your scalp and working his way back until he suddenly gripped a handful of your hair at the base and pulled. He made you look at him, you closed your eyes and whimpered at the pain.

"Open your eyes," he said calmly, staring at your face as you refused. His grip in your hair tightened as his voice lowered to a dangerous register as he nearly growled. "Open your eyes, little cat."

You followed his orders, afraid of the consequences otherwise. He watched another tear join the rest of them streaked along your cheeks, your eyes wet and pathetic as he fed off your misery. "Well, you needn't worry," he whispered, faux sympathy poisoning his tone. "I'll fuck you like you need to be fucked."

He yanked at your hair again, pulling you up to stand and ignoring the way you cried at the pain. He led you to the bed, letting you go with a small shove so you stood in front of it. He gestured to the bed. "On your knees."

You stood frozen, covering your body as you hung your head. You were shaking. He didn't care.

"On your knees."

You bit your trembling lip, moving slowly as you set your knee on the edge of the bed and slowly moving forward until you were sitting as he told you: on your knees, humiliated and cold.

He pressed his hand to your back, and the rest of his body followed to hold you as he harshly kissed the back of your shoulder again, more teeth than lips. Then he pushed you forward so you held yourself on your hands.

"Look at you," he remarked again, another chuckle echoing in his chest. "I shall make a bride of you yet."

You listened to him strip, taking his sweet time to remove every piece of clothing he had from his body and let it drop to the floor like sacks. You waited, hating the suspense. And you flinched when his hand found your dripping cunt, slipping through your lips and leaving just as quick.

There was a quite suckling sound, and then he spoke again. "Mm, you should taste yourself. Such sweet nectar."

His fingers prodded at your lips, you sealed them closed as you tried to move your face away, but he wasn't having it. He smeared your slickness all over your lips and down your chin and cupped your jaw with his cruel fingers. "Taste it."

You let out a choked sob as you slowly opened your mouth. His fingers invaded your mouth the same way they did your pussy, thrusting harshly in and out between your lips as you tasted yourself on them. You breathed heavily around his fingers as he pushed down on your tongue, spread them apart to make your tongue lick between them, adamant on making you lick every drop of your arousal off of his hand.

He finally removed his hand, and you could breathe again as you hung your head and gasped. You felt your blood run cold at the sound of wet skin on skin, a steady shlick making you clench, rejecting what you knew was coming, what you knew you couldn't fight.

You expected him to say something, to whisper in your ear to make you shiver, to taunt you as he fed off your humiliation and loathing.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one deep thrust. It was much worse than if he had warned you beforehand. You'd found safety in his predictability, his need to tease you gave warning to what he intended to do when he intended to do it. He'd taken even that from you.

He groaned as he settled deeply within you. "Ondoso se gods…" he muttered under his breath, taking your hips and pulling you back as he ground inside of you. "Now I know why you were so eager," he breathed. "This is a virgin's cunt."

You gripped the sheets of the bed and clenched, wanting to force him out but unable to. He was bigger than you, faster than you, stronger than you. He was carved by war, bled and seasoned by it. If you thought there was a chance you won this fight, you were dumber than he thought.

He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that emptied you out until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. The pleasure burned. As his patience began to wear thin, he was rid of all his slow, tempered thrust and resolved to piston inside of you like a hungry beast.

His hips snapped into your ass with every thrust, in and out was his fast rhythm that split you apart on his cock. You gripped the sheets and squeezed his cock and cried as the ecstasy of his intrusion tore you apart.

You whimpered and moaned, unable to help the way your sobs left you as he grunted and groaned about how good he must be making you feel.

His hand snaked around your waist and between your thighs to find your clit, and he pressed down harshly as he moved to make you cum. The pleasure spasmed when he touched you and you hated it.

His relentless thrusts ached as he built you up. When you came, your whole body shattered and you cried out, your arms giving out as you fell forward into the bed and muffled your sob. Your thighs shook and it took far too long for the shocks of pleasure to simmer. You hated yourself for letting it feel so good.

A hand cracked down on your ass once more as he pulled you close again by the waist. "You fucking loved that, I could tell," he breathed. "You clenched around me so tight. Even now your cunt is sucking me in."

You pulled weakly at the bedsheets. "Daemon, please…"

"So sweet… begging for me like some cock-drunk whore," he smiled. "Oh, my little cat… I'm going to fuck my cum so deep inside of you, you'll feel me dripping out of you for days."

He pulled out of you, and you let out a breath. In the same breath, he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs wide with his calloused hands. You fought to close them, but to no avail—not to your surprise.

He spread you open and sunk into you once more, grasping your jaw with his hand shaped into claws as he made you look at him. He thrust into you, deep and fast, his breath almost like a groan in his chest. "Look at me," he ordered. You obeyed, albeit hesitantly, on the first command.

"Such obedience," he praised. "You love it when I fuck you like this? When I force open your legs and take what is mine?" You wanted to shake your head and throw your hands and shove him off, but you were trapped and already broken in enough. His free hand grabbed at your thigh and clawed into your flesh, tearing you apart like he was doing to you now.

"Of course, you do. I know you do," he continued. His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher into you in a way that made it hard to contain moans that came from the sick pleasure curling within you, burning in your belly and fueling the tears in your eyes. But you were quieter than before, your sobs realizing they were getting you nowhere and accepting that this would be your life now. You could do nothing but lay there and take it as he fucked you, taking his pleasure from you like he would the spoils of war.

And he lasted too long. He held you down and kissed and bit and sucked and clawed at your flesh. He taunted and teased you, made you cum at least twice more with his insistent fingers as the pleasure seared in your belly like a corrosive flame ruining you from the inside out. You winced and whimpered and could do no more.

You didn't know how long you were there. It felt like forever, his relentless thrusts becoming numb to your sore body as you let him use you.

He sat up, pulling you into his lap as he fucked you in a newer, deeper angle. "I'm going to breed you now," he smirked, his strong hands keeping you close as he impaled you on his cock with a new determination. His white hair had fallen messily in his eyes by now, his lips pink and his eyes blown wide with lust.

"Would you like that? Would you like me to plant my seed in your quivering little cunt and make you an heir?" You stared up at him, your eyes tired as you watched him taunt you. Apparently, the question had not been rhetorical as his hand grips your jaw again and sets your head straight. "Answer me, little cat."

A war went off in your mind. If you said no, he'd likely to subject you to more horror, drag out the moment longer than he needed just to make you endure this torture a little while longer. If you came again, the shame would be so thick and so deep, you likely would not survive it.

But if you agreed to him, you would be admitting defeat. You would officially be his little plaything for him to use whenever he felt a little too pent up one moment or bored the next.

But another moment of this would bring more emotional turmoil than you have the heart for right now…

"Well?" he wondered, grinding his hips deep within you as he continued to claw your face, barely holding on enough as his head bowed with his thrusts. You whispered, but he just tilted his head to listen closer to your barely audible voice. "What?"

"Yes…" you whispered.

"Yes, what? What would you like, little cat?" he smiled wide, triumphant in his ability to break you so easily.

You swallowed thickly, your saliva like syrup at the embarrassment. "Yes, Prince Daemon… I want," a new, tiny sob choked out of you as the words stuck in your throat, "I want you to…to breed me."

The pride shone in his gaze like the sun, harsh and bright. "That's a very good girl, you are. I'm so very proud of you," he said as he kissed you roughly again. His hips began to snap harder into your once more, and you felt the unsteadiness of the rhythm, the desperation of the chase for his release hot in your belly.

And when he came, he pulled you down by his hips and pushed so deeply inside of you, it hurt. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, reaching his peak with a roar as he spilled his hot, fiery cum inside of your cunt and fucked it in to stay. You mewled and grabbed uncomfortably at his arms as you lay through the whole ordeal, hating his grabby hands and his thick, pulsing cock and his depraved sounds above you. The warmth filled you like tar.

He cursed under his breath in a language foreign to you. After grinding his hips for longer than he needed, he finally pulled out of you and put an end to your misery. You sighed in relief, laying back as he sat up and removed his heavy weight from your body.

He stared down at you, completely flustered and spent but well enough to tease some more. "Look at you," he shook his head. "Pathetic whore hungry for my cock."

You didn't look at him, turning your head to the side and laying there as he kept your legs open with his body between yours. He chuckled deep in his throat and smacked your side, earning little more than a near silent yelp.

You flinched when his hand found your cunt again, this time filled and smeared with both your cum and his. His long middle finger shoved inside of you and then back inside. With no warning, he placed his hand at your mouth. Another fight kicked through your veins, though noticeably less fueled than the last.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Open your mouth and see how well we taste together, little cat. If you don't, I have other things I can do with that little mouth of yours."

His threat was clear as day as you obeyed. Cracking your mouth open, he smeared your mixed release over your lips again and finally delved into your mouth to make you lick every single drop from his fingers. It was salty and sweet, and you hated it.

"Such a good, pathetic little girl, you are." He pulled his fingers from your mouth and sighed longingly. "Was that so hard?"

He shoved you off his lap, discarding you like trash as he stood to tidy himself once more. And once he finished, he blew out the remaining candles in the room and spared you not a single glance and not a single word more. He rolled over on the bed beside you and eased himself to sleep.

You lay there, staring at the sealing as the soreness in your limbs spread deeper and deeper until it reached your very soul. A heaviness took you, weighed down your heart until you were naught but a body on a bed next to a dark prince. A numbness ate away at your toes, at your fingertips, until the even numbness disappeared and was replaced by a terrible grief when the thoughts of the night flashed behind your eyes like a terrible dream.

And you began to sob. Softly, as not to wake Daemon and invoke him into another frenzy, you cried and hated the way it did not cleanse your soul. You belonged to him, his little wife, his little cat to prey on. You were just a dragon's whore now. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tag yourself here or send me a message!

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #dark content #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #dead dove do not eat

[lizziesribbons]

wedding wanda please!! she’d just fall in love w u all over again and then the night of ur wedding she just goes feral and calling u “my wife” “all mine” and she just gets super possessive and proud that u are now hers !!!

I Do |

PAIRING: WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEM! READER

summary: Wanda and you get married and then then Wanda goes all soft and fuckes you in your wedding dress ahhh

warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** fluff so much fluff 🥺 I'm going so aahwhwhwh, smut, praise ALOT OF PRAISE AHHH, name calling (Wanda calling you my wife, my love, princess, doll) I sobbed I wanna have soft sex with Wanda so bad I just know she will be the most gentle.

author's note: just reminding you guys that my first language is not English so if there's any grammatical errors PLEASE IGNORE THEM AND MOVE TF ON. Also I have no idea how weddings work so I did what I did

Word count: 2.1k

_______________________________________________________________________________

standing in your bridal gown, looking outside, and seeing Wanda standing there waiting for you, it was like a dream come true you've been waiting months for this day and now it was finally here. It seemed like everything around you just stopped. You could see nothing else but Wanda. In a white wedding gown, soon to be your wife. YOUR WIFE.

your dad came from behind holding your arm, breaking you from your gazing he said "Are you ready to go down the aisle sweetheart?" you took a deep breath and nodded as you both started walking.

as you walk down the aisle everyone cheers, "You are in Love" by Taylor Swift playing faintly in the background as you looked at Wanda and saw your whole world right there and then. It was like you were born to live this day and day alone. Everything seemed perfect everything made sense now.

Wanda looked at you and smiled. She smiled so hard that her cheeks started hurting. Tears in her eyes she saw you as you stood there in front of her, she wanted to kiss you so badly.

Clint was the one leading the wedding because Wanda insisted as he was the closest father figure to her and she loved him so dearly. "Wanda and y/n my two beautiful friends and my family members. I have known y/n ever since she was a little girl, she was always so compassionate and funny" he pauses and light laugh "So funny actually. She was always goofing around and her jokes oh my God I cannot forget them she was always joking about something or someone she would make me laugh in the darkest of times" he paused again looked at you and smiled. "let me tell you, guys, something, one time when y/n was wearing a pillow on her head as a wedding veil came up to me, she was only five at time. and asked me "Uncle Clint!!!! do I look good???" and gave me a twirl and haha I said "ofc you do sweetheart, who's your groom?" and she looked at me and rolled her eyes "Silly I don't have a groom I'm marrying my doll cause I love her the most" and then she forced me by giving me those pretty pleading eyes that still work to this day to come to her wedding and I went and now here I am standing in between y/n and Wanda at their actual wedding" with now tears in his eyes he looked at Wanda

"Wanda.. Oh, I've known Wanda for more than 10 years now I saw her grow up into this powerful beautiful woman she is now, I remember when she came up to me asking me if she should ask y/n out I told her whatever was in her heart she should just put it out, I saw there relationship grow stronger and stronger each day. They are the most for each other as one could be, I remember when Wanda asked me how she should propose to y/n I told her the same thing again that she should do whatever is in her heart, Wanda my pretty Wanda I love you and I'm so proud of you for the women you have become, my heart breaks into millions when I think about how both of you are not so little anymore but it screams in joy when I see you two together so in love with each other." that was it he stopped talking, he was softly sobbing now so are many of our friends and family members.

He speaks again after some silence clearing his throat, "We are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of Wanda Maximoff and Y/n Y/l/n We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends"

He turned to Wanda and said "Repeat after me.

I, Wanda take you, Y/n, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." and as Wanda did he looked at you next and said "Repeat after me.

I, Y/n take you, Wanda, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." "It's time for the vows," he says softly

You begin first "Wanda, darling, for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my love, my soulmate. Then four years ago, at another wedding, I turned to a friend for comfort, and instead, I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life. And now, here we are, with our future before us, and I only want to spend it with you – my love, my soulmate, my friend… Unless you don’t want to.”

Wanda started tearing up but holding her composure she began, "Y/n, I thought this was going to be the most difficult thing I ever had to do. But when I saw you walking down that aisle, I realized how simple it was. I love you. Any surprises that come our way, it’s ok, because I will always love you. You were the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with."

(An: these vows are definitely not stolen from friends)

"just to be sure" he laughs "Do each of you take the other to be your lawful wedded spouse?”

Wanda and you say together with eagerness "I do".

After exchanging the rings he speaks again,

"By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss" and took a step back as Wanda eagerly came forward and kissed me softly and whispered "oh I've been waiting all day for this" making you laugh and tear up.

"Ladies and Gentleman, for those of you who have come to witness this union, it is my pleasure to present the newly united couple, Y/N and WANDA Maximoff."

there's that. you and Wanda were married. Actually married. the rest of the evening went great everyone danced laughed cried.

____________________________________________________________

(wedding night)

Your flight was tomorrow in evening so you and Wanda had the whole night to yourself, as you sat there on the bed taking off your jewelry Wanda came from the back rubbing your shoulders you instantly relaxed in her touch

She bent down so she could whisper in your ear softly "I want to fuck you in this dress" You could hear the smirk on her face, and as you hesitantly looked at her she immediately knew what you meant "I promise I'll be gentle no damage would be done to that dress" Wanda knew how much you loved that dress so she wouldn't dare ruining it

"I bought this just for tonight," she says holding a Scarlett strap out in her hand, it was just perfect not too big or too small

"lay down" she whispers in your ear and you did, she folds your dress to your waist and takes off your underwear Wanda was only in her undergarments she took them off and fastened the harness around her as she stood between your legs she caressed your legs and align the strap to your opening slowly entering you while maintaining eye contact as she watched your face confronted in pleasure, only light moans coming out of your mouth

you underestimated the size, it wasn't too thick but it was long. When Wanda was fully in she gave you a moment to get used to the strap

Her fingers entwined with yours, your foreheads touching lightly she thrusts inside you, slowly but hard, every thrusting was pulling a moan out of you as Wanda gasped in your ear throwing praises here and there

"you're doing so good princess"

"my pretty wife"

"oh baby you look so pretty like that"

she didn't stop the praises her thrusts only speeding up, not too fast just perfect sending you into ecstasy, her strap hit your g spot in every thrust "Wanda I'm cumming!!" without warning you came all over her strap.

"Can you give me one more doll? please?" looking at her pleading eyes you weakly nodded as Wanda gently fucks you through your orgasm, kissing your neck so softly she said "My wife only mine" She gasps her orgasm reaching her soon "All mine! cum with me baby," she says as she let out a moan collapsing over you, making sure not to put all her weight on you, you came soon after.

As you both came down from your high Wanda tried to get up but your arms stopped her "Noo please don't go" she cupped your face and said "I'll just be a minute princess" She got and undid the harness and threw it down, took your dress off softly and cleaned you up and herself

"here take some water baby" She gave you and glass of water and you drank as she took the wedding dress to the closet, peaking her head out from the closet she asked, "do you wanna sleep with clothes on or off doll?" "off please" you replied softly yawning

Wanda nodded and got out of the closet, as you made someplace in the bed for her she got under the cover immediately holding you, you lay your head on her chest clutching her like a koala

Wanda started caressing your back "Goodnight my beautiful wife", you smiled and muttered something out hoping Wanda would understand.

And she did. She always does.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #dark!wanda maximoff #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #mommy wanda #soft wanda maximoff

[corazondebeskar-reads]

the art of breaking (dark!joel miller x f!reader; dead dove do not eat)

very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

written for the #deaddovedecember2023 event hosted by @romana-after-dark | also on ao3 | dedicating this to @kewwrites, who is a master and icon of unsettling-but-still-romantic dark fic & whose incredible vibes made me feel brave enough to write this. love you ty 🖤

dividers by @saradika-graphics

NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

Seriously, I am saying this as clearly as I can: read the warnings carefully. If anything listed is something you don’t want to read, don’t. The working title for this was “the darkest joel” for a reason (and I actually tamed it down/cut out some of the intense scenes). It’s modern-day/no outbreak, but Joel still lost Sarah and went off the deep end. He was probably a good dom at some point, but now he’s just fucked up.

If you're worried it'll be too dark, it probably will be.

Warnings under the cut:

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, semi-permanent damage (a bone is broken, I’m not fucking around), whipping, spanking, face slapping, tit slapping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, anal, vaginal, degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, edging, denial, dacryphilia, bastinado (mentioned), restraints, very brief knifeplay, tiny drop of blood play, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare 

Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it. 

Please read responsibly. 

I. in media res

     -the fracture

There’s one comfort Joel almost never denies you.

Well, never denies himself.

Unless you’ve been real bad, you always take your place in bed with him at the end of the day. You think it’s so he has easy access to you if he wakes up horny, but honestly, that happens a lot less than expected. He works hard all day; he needs his sleep.

No, he likes the comfort of your warm body next to his. The way you curl up and press kisses to him, no matter how bad he hurt you during the day. His sweet little pet, desperate for every bit of his affection you can earn. He’s always gentle with you here.

It’s part of what makes The Pit so effective.

It fucks with your brain on so many levels, exposes you to so many fears, and then you have to reconcile that you were bad enough for Joel to deny himself the comfort of you in his arms at night. That you’re so undeserving of his love.

Of all of the ways he punishes you, this will be the worst. You can take the humiliation, the pain—not easily, but you can, and there’s usually immediate care after.

But a night in The Pit will tear you down completely.

You hadn’t known what to expect when he said you’d have to spend the night alone, but it wasn’t this.

“No, please,” you scream, stumbling to keep up as Joel pulls you by your hair.

“Shut up,” he snarls.

The soil is loose, clinging to your sweat as you try to right yourself. It’s a futile effort. When you reach The Pit, he holds you down with his boot on your chest while he unlocks and opens the bars.

“Get in,” he says.

You’re sobbing and shaking, skin already gone cold. Somehow, you manage to obey.

The Pit is exactly what it sounds like. It has an open wooden frame with mesh on the side walls to keep the dirt in place. The bottom is bare soil. Mounted to the top of the beams is a grate of bars that sit flush with the ground.

It’s big enough for you to curl up at the bottom—which is what you do now.

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

He shuts and locks the gate.

II. from the start

     -intact

It was kismet, really, that he was there that night. He didn’t usually go out for drinks with the guys, not wanting to be the boss who was always cramping their style. But Tommy had dragged him out tonight, and so he was witness (with the rest of the pub) to your relationship falling apart.

And okay, maybe he went outside for a smoke after you moved the fight to the alley so he could eavesdrop. But it wasn’t his fault. How could he not?

You had said, “Maybe you’re just not man enough for me,” to the brawny but pathetic prick across from you in the booth. “Wanting you to be rough doesn’t make me a freak.”

“That’s not rough; that’s fuckin’ abuse. You’re sick,” your boyfriend had practically shouted.

The discussion evolved into a screaming match in the alley, where Joel had been pleased to be right. It was about more than just a little rough sex or spanking.

At the end of it, your boyfriend stormed off, and you went back in the pub. Joel found you at the bar, throwing back another shot and wiping your tears away.

“You did good back there,” he says.

You startle and look at the stranger. The very handsome stranger. Rugged, with a salt and pepper beard and a scar across his nose.

“What do you mean?”

“Standin’ up for yourself. Not a lot of people woulda been confident enough. ‘Specially not a girl lookin’ for that.”

You glare at the bar counter. “M’not a weirdo.”

“Nah, you’re not. Shit like that is perfectly normal. He’s just pathetic.”

You look back up at him, and he sticks one hand in his pocket, trying to adjust himself discreetly. The tear streaks on your cheeks are getting to him.

“I don’t know. He’s probably right. It’s not your garden variety shit,” you say. The tequila and his gentle eyes have loosened your tongue.

“I doubt that. Try me,” he says.

“What?”

“Try me. Tell me what he freaked out over, and I’ll tell ya if it’s weird. Trust me, I’ve seen it all.”

You hesitate, but he looks genuine and kind. “I asked him to hit me. Like, in the face. And to, y’know, pin me down and—” you trail off.

“And make ya take it?” he guesses.

You nod. “He thought I like, I dunno, actually wanted to be raped,” you whisper the last word, eyes darting to the people around you.

Joel laughs. “Honey, that’s so normal, you wouldn’t believe. I’ve helped ladies out with that little roleplay more times than I can count. If that’s your deepest, darkest fantasy, and he couldn’t take it, then you’re better off without him.”

“It’s not,” you mumble.

“Speak up, honey.”

“It’s not my deepest, darkest fantasy. It’s probably one of the least of them.”

He grins. “Then you’re definitely better off. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with likin’ things on the darker side, sweetheart.”

You’re feeling hot all over and are about to ask him more when your phone rings. It’s your idiot boyfriend, who’s realized you have the car keys.

“I better go. Thank you,” you say, standing and offering him your hand.

He gives it a firm shake, tipping his head. “I’m Joel. And if you’re ever so inclined, I’d like to take you out sometime.”

You laugh. “Let me break up with my boyfriend first, Joel.” But you dig a pen out of your purse and write your number on one of the tiny bar napkins.

Your first date was so normal. You’re not sure what you expected. To jump right to hardcore sex?

But no, he turns up at your door in a neatly pressed green button-up, black slacks, and an ostentatious belt buckle. He greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a bouquet of wildflowers, lavender stalks nestled between pink honeysuckle and red salvia. Not a traditional arrangement, but it reminds you of a summer sunset.

“From my garden,” he says a little sheepishly, but you like them a lot better than some generic store display. You tell him as much and his cheeks flush a little.

You return the kiss and pop the flowers in a vase of water before he sweeps you off in his pickup. You aren’t surprised, really, but it’s more charming than some of the other men and their gaudy trucks.

Joel’s is older but well-kept, with minimal rusting around the wheel wells. The bed is open, and you can see streaks of grease and paint spills. A silver tool chest is mounted against the back of the cab. Everything inside and out has a light coating of sawdust.

He isn’t some insecure man with a truck big enough to make up for what isn’t in his britches, that’s for certain. You’d hazard a guess that the corded muscle of his forearms and the breadth of his shoulders are well-earned.

He holds the door open for you, which you tease him for as you slide onto the truck’s bench seat.

“Ain’t doin’ it ‘cause you’re incapable,” he drawls. “Or because you’re a lady,” he adds when he sees the glint in your eye.

“Oh yeah, cowboy?”

His grin is lopsided, a little dark. “Nah. I just think you deserve to be taken care of, s’all.”

You flush, the back of your neck burning, but you don’t fight the smile that threatens to break out. “Thank you, Joel.”

He shakes his head. He’s pretty sure, now, that if he plays his cards right, he’s found somethin’ special.

He waits three whole dates to take you to bed, and even then, it doesn’t start dirty.

“Let me get to know your body first, baby,” he urges when you ask him to fuck you rough. Instead, he takes you apart piece by piece. First with his tongue, and then his fingers. He brings you to the edge over and over, but never lets you fall.

After a while, you’re a broken record, pleas and sobs spilling from you.

“That’s music to my ears, darlin’,” he says, pulling his fingers out abruptly to see how your cunt throbs for him. He spits on your clit and watches it drip down to join the mess between your thighs.

“Please, please, Joel,” you beg.

“Please who now?”

“Please, sir,” you try, and are rewarded with his sharp grin. But not with an orgasm.

He slaps your cunt. “That’s more like it, baby. You remember who you’re talkin’ to, alright?”

You nod. “Yes, sir; thank you, sir.”

He shakes his head, sucking on your clit for a moment before pulling back to get a good look at you. “You do like a little pain, huh?”

“Would like more,” you say.

“Oh yeah? What would you let me do to you?”

“Anything, please, sir.”

He clicks his tongue at you. “Don’t go sayin’ that to someone you barely know. It’s okay to mean it when you trust somebody, but you’re gonna end up in more trouble than you bargain for if you pass that out like candy.”

“I do mean it.”

“Yeah? You’ll let me do this?” His open palm smacks across your face, leaving a sting tingling on your cheek and a lightness to your brain.

Tears spring to your eyes, but you nod frantically.

“What about this?” he grabs a nipple in his calloused fingers and yanks, twisting.

You yelp, but it trails off to a moan, and you nod.

“Goddamn, baby. S’good. But what about this?” He flicks open the switchblade he keeps in his pocket.

You jerk and whine, eyes wide and wet as he brings it to your breast. Your breathing falls shallow as you try to hold still, the point scraping the delicate skin as he circles it. But the look you’re giving him almost has him cumming in his pants like he were twenty years younger.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding. I mean, you’ve gotta have limits; everyone does. But you just want me to hurt you, huh?” He digs the tip of the blade in a little on the side of your breast, cock throbbing as you gasp, and you both watch a tiny drop of blood bead and trickle down the blade.

He puts it away. “No,” he says when you whimper. “Not today. I ain’t prepared for all that.”

Joel doesn’t like to break his toys. Not permanently. Just enough that he can put them back together how he likes and then do it all over again.

“Don’t need to be prepared; just do it,” you whine.

He slaps you again and wrenches your head up with a hand in your hair. “First of all, I fuckin’ told you no. Second, I know you want to be a stupid little cunt for me, but I’m not about to cut you open without any goddamn first aid shit.”

He leans back and smacks the breast he had cut. He hits you over and over, alternating sides, until your chest burns, and you’re sobbing.

He looks you over briefly and then shoves his hand between your thighs. “You’re wetter than a slip ‘n slide, baby.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, and wipes the tears from your cheek with his thumb. He feels your cunt twitch when he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean.

It’s the last straw for him. He’s not opened you enough, but he has a feeling you’ll like it better this way anyway.

You cry out, back arching when he shoves into you. He meant to go slow, he really did, if only to drag out the anticipation. But you’re so warm. So wet. So he just stuffs himself inside.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe you love the pain; it’s just that he can’t resist feeling the evidence for himself. He slaps you across the face while you’re still processing his cock, and the resulting clench and jerk of your body drag a moan from him.

He holds back, regulates his urge to pull each whimper and scream from you, but it’s still so fucking good. It’s been a long time since he’s doled out real cruelty to a slut like you who loves to suffer.

When he finally lets you cum, it’s when he’s about to. He pulls out and spanks your cunt, granting his permission. As your pussy flutters desperately around nothing, he cums on it, watching the way it gets prettier as he paints it.

You black out for a minute. When you come to, he’s wiping you down gently with a warm washcloth, wicking the sweat off your face and chest before cleaning his cum from your curls. You whimper, and he grins, leaning over to steal a kiss.

Even after that first night, he goes slow. He can’t scare ya, not while you still have someplace to run. Plus, it’s so much easier if he starts planting the seeds for your training now.

He knows you’ll beg for it, anyway. He’s been getting the nastiest text messages from you. Part of it is the dopamine; he’s not stupid. But part of you really wants this shit. And the rest? Well. You’ll get there.

It’s the little things. He orders you a black decaf at the drive-thru when you ask for a latte. You start to correct him, like you think he’s made a mistake, but he gives you a look, and you shut your mouth immediately.

When he pulls away from the speaker, you look over at him again. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry…?”

You squirm a little, heart pounding, unsure if he’s really doing this at the Dunkin’ Donuts. “Sorry, sir.”

He smiles and rubs his hand on your thigh where it peeks out from your skirt. “Thanks, baby.”

And that’s all it takes. You take the cup when he hands it to you and you’re quick to say, “Thank you, sir,” even though the kid at the window is still passing things through to Joel and can clearly hear you.

     -fissured

It goes on like that for a couple of months, but it doesn’t all go so smoothly. One night, he picks you up from work and takes you to a restaurant, saying he wants to treat you. Halfway through the meal, he asks for your panties.

“What?” you say, shocked at his vulgar language in the dining room.

“Take ‘em off and hand ‘em to me.”

You go to stand, probably thinking you can go to the bathroom to obey.

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Right here, right now, baby.”

“Joel,” you hiss, sitting back down, “I can’t do that.”

He fixes you with a calm smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, raising one finger in the air. “I’ll give ya three choices. The first one, the one I’m going to advise you pick, is that you do it right now, and I’ll only punish ya for talkin’ back.”

“The second one,” he holds up another finger for emphasis, “is you can go to the bathroom to take ‘em off, but you’re gonna pay for it when we get home. The third one is where you don’t listen, we leave right now, and you learn to fuckin’ regret it.”

Your breathing is shallow, and your pretty eyes are shining. If he wasn’t fully hard before, he is now.

“I-I can’t,” you whimper. “Please, sir.”

“You got about thirty seconds to make up your mind.” The softness is gone—from his voice, from his face, from the set of his shoulders.

“Fuck,” you whisper, and you stand up. You’re only in the bathroom for a minute, and when you sit back down, you try to hand them to him under the table.

“Nah, that was only a choice if you were good,” he says, smirking and laying his expectant hand on the white linens.

Mortified, you ball them up tight in your fist and press them into his hand. He slides them into his pants pocket.

He doesn’t say anything else about it for the rest of dinner, asking instead about your projects at work and your visit with your parents over the holidays. You feel sick, barely eating a thing, and biting your lip to stave off the tears.

As soon as you’re in the truck, you start to cry. “I’m sorry, I was just scared and—”

“Shut up. You made your choice. You’re not sorry. You’re just afraid of the consequences.”

“N-no, I am sorry, I mean it.”

“You’re gonna have to prove it.” He doesn’t look at you on the drive home, doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t even turn the radio on; just listens to you sniffle.

When he parks, he sets his hand on your thigh. “Don’t worry, baby. I know you can be my good girl. All you gotta do is take your punishment and learn from it, okay?”

You sniffle again and nod, blinking through tear-laden lashes at him.

“So pretty when you cry for me,” he murmurs. He gets out and comes around to open your door, offering a hand to help you step down from the tall truck. You take it, and he holds on, leading you inside his house.

He sits sprawled on the couch, thighs parted wide to make room and waits until you’re comfortably kneeling between his legs. You’re sat in silence, head bowed, arms folded behind your back.

“Tell me what you did wrong today.”

This is a first, but not a last. Even on days when nothing egregious has happened, you will follow this ritual. He’ll ask for your sins, and you’ll confess. There will always be something you’ll owe him for.

“I argued when you gave me orders. I was disobedient.”

“Anything else I need to know about, baby?”

“No, sir.”

“Why’d you argue?”

“I was afraid. I’m sorry.”

“Save your grovelin’ for after, baby. Why were you afraid?”

“I didn’t want people to see. I didn’t want to get kicked out or arrested.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to you? You think I would have given you an order that put either of us at any kinda risk?”

Your face burns. “I—”

“I thought you trusted me.” He sounds hurt, and you’re a little nauseous when you look up to see his eyes wide and sad, lips turned into a wounded scowl.

Your shoulders slump. “I didn’t think. I panicked.”

“Hmm. Okay, I can work with that.”

You look up at him, brow scrunched and lips pouting as you try to parse his words.

He smiles. It’s cold, and his eyes are steel.

You swallow hard, and his grin widens, quirking into a smirk.

“Alright, baby. I got just the thing.”

He leads you into the ensuite. You kneel on the little rug by the tub while he fills it. You’re too afraid to ask what’s happening, so you just sit quietly. He leaves the room and doesn’t come back until the tub is nearly full, and you’re starting to worry that you were supposed to be monitoring it.

He comes back in, and once it’s nearing the lip of the tub, he turns off the faucet. He has you kneel on the top of the three steps leading up to the edge. It’s the most luxurious thing in this house, and you suspect he installed it custom so he could soak his aching muscles.

He bends you over the edge so you’re leaning close to the water and crouches down behind you. It’s a pleasant surprise when he spreads you wide and licks from your clit to your asshole.

He stays there for a few minutes, indulging in your wet cunt and the cries it draws from your lips. After he’s had his fill, he stands up and lubes up his cock before pushing his way into your ass. He’s generous with the lube but rarely preps you, since you both like it better when it hurts.

You’re writhing a little beneath him, wriggling your hips to try to ease the passage. Once he’s fully seated inside you, he grabs the back of your head and shoves it under the water before fucking hard into you.

You thrash, displacing water from the tub, until he yanks you back up.

You gasp for air and scrabble to get a grip on the wet tile, but he pushes you back down and groans at how tight you get while you’re struggling.

He pulls you roughly back up. “Gonna keep going until you stop makin’ a fuss.”

You go to protest, to panic, and he pushes you back down.

The next time he pulls you out, he spanks you until your skin is burning. “Fuckin’ trust me. You think I’m gonna let you drown?”

“No, sir,” you cry, but it’s garbled as he pushes you back down. You’re still fighting him each time.

He pulls you back out and repeats the beating. “Relax, or we’re gonna be here all night.”

He continues the process a few more times and then gives you a reprieve, letting go of your hair so you can rest your cheek against the cold edge of the tub while he pounds into you. He reaches and rubs featherlight circles around your clit until you’re softly moaning.

“You gonna trust me?”

“I’m trying, my body panics,” you pant.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to ya. You hear me? You know you’re panicking, so focus on me instead.”

“Yes, sir.”

It shouldn’t make sense, but you think he’s long warped your brain anyway. The next time he pushes you underwater, you clench your fists tight and focus on what oxygen you do have, even if he knocks a little out with each thrust.

His hand in your hair is your anchor and buoy. You tense when you feel your body start to jerk, trying so hard to control it.

He pulls you up. “Just like that, baby. Again.”

It gets just a little easier each time. He leaves you under longer, until your lungs are burning, and you’re on the edge of gasping in water, but he pulls you out in time.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well.” He’s a little fascinated. He hadn’t really been sure it could be done or if your survival instincts would go into a frenzy. But here you are, letting him almost fucking drown you.

Not that he would.

Despite being balls deep in your tight little asshole, he isn’t trying to reach his orgasm. Not yet, staving off his pleasure so he can keep a clear head.

He keeps it up just a little longer. You’re getting tired and tolerating less and less time underwater. The last time he pulls you up, he pinches your clit and tells you to cum while he fills you.

He dunks you again while you cum, and you clamp down on him tighter than you have before, convulsing on his cock. When he pulls you back up, you’re gasping and sobbing. He pulls out and wraps you in a towel, easing you to the wet floor while he cleans up.

When he comes back to you, he helps you stand and dry off, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“So?”

Your brow furrows. It’s not what he usually asks after a punishment, but you think you know what he means. “I’m sorry. I trust you, I promise.”

“I know. M’so proud of you for taking that. You’re turning out so nicely, sweet thing.”

In the morning, you’re almost late to work after sucking him off when you should have been getting dressed. He’s about to walk out the door to head to the site when he hears your frustrated voice from the bedroom.

“Joel, where are my underwear? I need to fuckin’ leave.”

“I told you, baby. There was a price to pay when you picked the bathroom. Y’ain’t wearing ‘em anymore.”

“What?”

He doesn’t need to see you to smirk at the shocked expression he knows is on your face. “We’ll talk about it more tonight; I gotta run.”

     -avulsed

“Y’know, baby,” Joel says, leaning forward to rub your shoulder. “They just don’t fuckin’ appreciate you.”

You’re bent over, elbows on your knees, crying with your face buried in your hands. You sit up and sniffle, wiping the tears. “It’s fine; it’s not like I need to be coddled at work.”

All the stress of the PR world is getting to you, and you hate it, you fucking hate it, but you dropped 50k on a degree, so now you’re stuck.

“But they make you work all this overtime, cut your team in half, and then berate you when you can’t meet the client’s deadline? You do not deserve that, baby.”

You let him coax you into his lap, facing him so you can bury your face in his soft, worn tee. He rubs your back and holds your head to his chest.

“You’re too good to me,” you mumble.

“Nah, darlin’, I’ve told ya a thousand times. You deserve to be taken care of.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I, well. I was thinkin’...”

You wait, but when he doesn’t pick back up, you sit up and look at him.

“I dunno. It’s nothin’,” he says.

“Please tell me?”

“Alright, fine. Now, I don’t want ya to feel any pressure. It’s just a thought. But maybe you should just quit and stay with me a while, ‘till you can find something better?”

You can’t tell if he’s joking. He must see something on your face, because he tips your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes.

“I know it’s sudden, but I mean it. Let me take care of ya while you figure shit out. We don’t gotta treat it like living together if y’ain’t ready. But I’d be open to that conversation, too.”

It doesn’t take much more than that. The first couple weeks, he lets you give it a try—searching for new degree programs, applying for jobs you know you’re overqualified for just to try something different.

After nothing pans out, he suggests you both take a week off. Him from work and you from the burden of trying to escape unemployment. Just relax, like a little staycation.

It’s bliss. You go on dates, eat pizza and marathon the “Jurassic Park” movies, and fuck like crazy.

On the third night, he sits you down. On his cock, of course. While you’re bouncing and brainless, he cups your cheek. “Baby, you’ve been too damn stressed still. What if we… well, what if we tried out a day or two like we’ve been talking about?”

Sometimes, you whisper to him in the darkness, usually while he’s balls deep, how you wish you could be his all the time. His good girl. His pet. And he whispers back, lures you right in with promises of taking care of everything, of you not having a worry or care in the world. Just him.

Now, he fondles your tits while he murmurs to you. “We can just wake up together, and I can take care of ya. Everything you need, baby. All you’d have to do is be good for me, yeah?”

You moan and grind down harder on his cock. “Please, sir. I want it more than anything. Just to be yours.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Joel had no patience for brats, so he usually broke his toys in sooner into the training process. He liked ‘em nice and obedient—scared, if that’s what it took, but devoted. But you had been from the start—you wanted to be good in all the ways you could never seem to be to other people. Your family, your job, the world seemed to just demand more and more.

Joel was the first person to make you feel like you had actually, really, truly pleased him. There wasn’t a higher mark you should have made. There wasn’t any expectation for you to give more and more.

His orders were complete, always. You learned that very quickly. Attempts to go above and beyond were rebuked.

“If I wanted that, I woulda said so,” he told you. And like everything else, you committed his words to memory.

It helped that he gave praise freely. You didn’t have to wonder if he was satisfied, if you should have licked him differently, if you should have made prettier faces while you came. He reassured you until you believed him, and then kept going anyway.

It made it easier for him to slowly peel you away from the ungrateful world.

“You don’t have to take that,” he’d say after watching your face fall further and further while on the phone with your mom. “Family ain’t supposed to make you feel like shit.”

They made it too easy, really, and your relationship with them would have likely just fizzled out. But in the end, he had to step in and snap it off.

You asked him to come with you to dinner at their house. He was hesitant. He wasn’t really the boyfriend type. He wasn’t really even your boyfriend. That was too weird a word for either of you, not when he owned you.

But he knows you didn’t want to go alone, and he has a feeling he’ll be cleaning up the mess anyway.

You want to give them a chance. Things have been so tense, and they said they missed you. But they didn’t even make it through the entrée without ridiculing you.

When your father asks how work is going, you quietly confess to quitting, hastily reassuring them that you are looking for a new position. Though, and you keep this part to yourself, you maybe haven’t been trying that hard.

“What do you mean you quit? How are you paying your bills? You better not have come here to ask for money,” your father says, setting down his fork to glare at you.

“Well, I’ve been living with Joel,” you mumble to the tablecloth.

“I didn’t raise you to be a gold digger,” your mother chides.

Joel tries to bite his tongue and let them dig their own graves. But your father calls you a “fucking whore,” and he can’t stand it. Can’t stand the way you’re cowering in your chair, fighting back tears.

“You watch your mouth,” Joel snaps at your father.

You look up, mouth agape, eyes darting from Joel to your parents.

“Mind your business,” your dad tells him.

Joel stands up and throws his napkin on the table. “She is my fuckin’ business. I wouldn’t stand by and let anyone talk to her like that. You’re not an exception just because you managed to get it up long enough to cum in your wife.”

“Joel,” you whisper, tugging at his sleeve. You’re burning, melting on the spot, from the vulgar way he’s talking to them. For him, someone who’s always strict about manners and proper hospitality, to talk back like this? God, you think, he must really love you.

He puts a hand on the back of your neck and holds firmly as you lean into it. He rounds back on your parents. “You treat her like fuckin’ dirt beneath your feet, and I’m tired of it. You don’t deserve the fuckin’ dirt beneath her feet.”

He shoves his chair back and grabs your hand. “C’mon, baby; we’re leaving.”

You take it and stand up, letting him pull you along. Your father follows you into the foyer, and you try not to look at him while you shove your shoes on.

Joel holds your coat out while you slip into it, and you tune out whatever your dad is yelling now. You don’t want to hear it; you know it’s nasty, and your whole world has narrowed to Joel anyway.

He holds out the key. “Go wait in the truck, baby.”

And you do.

He comes out about five minutes later, red-faced and huffing with fury. He doesn’t say a word when he gets in; just throws the truck into reverse and pulls away. You both ignore the blood on his knuckles.

Once you’re on the road, he looks over at you and sighs. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You unbuckle and slide over to the middle seat, tucking your hand between his warm body to curl around his arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Whaddya sorry for? None of that was your fault.” He kisses the top of your head and cups your cheek at the stoplight. “It was gonna happen eventually, anyway.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the ride home is silent while you breathe in his comforting musk and try to relax. But the tension is unrelenting, the horrible rotting feeling eating away at your spine.

He knows. Knows what you need, knows what he can do to seal this moment forever. He waits until he’s unzipping the pretty little cocktail dress you’d stressed over.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, breaking away from where he was sucking his claim down your neck to swap out your delicate necklace with his collar.

He unhooks the bra and kisses the marks he left behind with the cane, your penance for being allowed to wear it. It leaves you bare to him, and his hands turn greedy. He presses biting kisses against your lips while digging fingers into your bruises, swallowing your whimpers.

He grabs you by the neck and squeezes the sides of your throat, holding you to him while your vision blurs. When he lets go, you stumble, but his arm around your back holds you upright. He slaps your face with quick, sharp blows in rapid succession to keep you unsteady.

“Knees, hands behind your head,” he says, and lets go.

You fall but are quick to right yourself and take the position. He wastes no time, giving you another harsh smack before grabbing your hair and shoving his cock into your throat.

You choke and gag but keep your hands in place even as your head spins. You feel limp and grateful that he doesn’t seem to require any effort from you as he uses you without mercy.

“Look at you. You’ve got my whole cock down your throat. You’re so fuckin’ good for me.”

Your eyes are already glazed over, and you moan your appreciation around him.

He pulls out and hauls you to your feet. “I know what you need, sweetheart. Get your ass downstairs.”

He fucks you, beats you, uses you wherever he wants. But the basement is where he keeps the heavy equipment and where you know you’re about to have your mind and body pushed to the absolute limit.

You’re ready, he thinks, when he gets down and finds you waiting perfectly in place for him, eyes wide like he’s descended from on high. He jerks a thumb to the wooden post, and you meet him there.

“Forget about what they want you to be,” he murmurs as he closes the steel cuffs around your ankles. “You know what you want, baby. Right?”

“Mhm,” you nod, already slipping away into that safe place only Joel can get you to.

“What do you want to be?” he asks, binding your arms up over your head to the eye bolt at the top of the post.

“Yours.” It’s half-whisper, half-whine.

“Yeah? You just wanna be mine? You don’t want to get a new job?”

“No,” you finally confess. “But—”

“But what, baby? If you say somethin’ about money or bills, I’m gonna be mighty unhappy.”

You bite your lip. “I’m scared one day, you’ll wake up and not want me anymore.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, sweetheart. You think I put all this work into helpin’ you, into teaching you how to be mine, just to toss ya out? You’re hurtin’ my feelings.”

“I’m sorry,” you say automatically.

He slides a silicone cock into the bracket lined right up with your mouth. It’s a fairly standard size, since he knows you’re going to thrash around and doesn’t want you gagging too much and throwing up.

Your torso gets tied to the post by your tits, the wood nestled between them and rope woven around. Securing you there forces your head onto the toy, but he doesn’t make you take it all the way. You keep your mouth open and don’t move closer or further, waiting for his command.

“Suck on it whenever you’d like. You’re going to need it.”

Your eyes roll back a little at his promise. If he thinks you’re going to need something in your mouth to self-soothe, you’re in for an absolutely amazing time.

“Focus on me. That’s all you’ll need to do from now on, baby. No more worries in that pretty little head, okay?”

The first strike is a warm-up. When you feel the lash of his favorite whip lick your ass, you moan. It’s a moderately short signal whip that he wields like a fucking pro. His warmups are quick but thorough, and you’re squirming when he moves on to your thighs and shoulders.

“Already?��� he says, laughing when you whine around the silicone cock.

You’re absentmindedly sucking on it when he starts a harsher assault. A particularly sharp strike stings at the valley where your ass meets your thighs, and you yelp, jerking a little and gagging yourself on the dildo.

His smirk burns into your back as the cry melts into a moan, and you writhe a little, trying to get friction where you need it most. What you get, though, is the tip of the whip against your cunt.

By the time he moves around to your tits, they’re covered in spit, heaving with the effort of holding back your orgasm. He comes up to you first, and pinches at your nipples.

“Aw, does my dumb little cunt want to cum?” He croons, tugging and twisting until you moan. He laughs when all you can get out is a muffled “mhm.”

“Tell ya what. You can cum all you want while I hurt you tonight, okay?”

He punctuates it with a particularly cruel pinch, and that, combined with his permission, is all you need to let the pleasure shudder through you.

“Yeah? You gonna get off to being my little toy? Gonna let me do whatever I want?”

You moan around the fake cock, easing it further into your throat.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He doesn’t give a warm-up on your tits, figuring you’re already so far gone it doesn’t fuckin’ matter.

He’s right. The first lash is harsh, a welt blooming across the top of your breast in its wake, but you groan, trying to press your cunt up against the post for any relief.

You don’t need it, though. He brings you to your peak again with the skilled flick of his wrist, landing blows across the fat of your breasts. He waits until you’re mid-orgasm to bring the whip hard across your nipples.

The resulting wail almost makes him cum in his pants. He does it only twice more, relishing in your agony, but restraining himself from just letting loose. Not with the whip, as much as he’d like to. Maybe later with a flogger.

Once he’s taken it as far as he’s willing to risk, he moves back around to give the rest of you the same treatment. The hardest hits push you over the edge, and by the time his arm is getting tired, you’re sobbing and writhing in your restraints, overstimulated in every way.

He unlatches your ankles first, helping you find steady footing before untying your wrists and torso. You drop to your knees and open your mouth, throat aching for his cock after the tease of the toy.

He doesn’t have the willpower to torment you by denying it tonight. Instead, he nearly pops the button off his jeans in his urgency to pull his cock out and shove it as far down your throat as he can.

Your arms find their place behind your back, and you just take it. He fucks into you without restraint. It’s filthy, from the mess you’re making to the wet choking sounds he pushes out of you with each thrust.

You’re shaking, and he pulls out abruptly.

“I said while I’m hurting you. You don’t get to just cum from getting facefucked.”

“Then hurt me, please,” you sob. It’s right there; you’re so close.

He slaps you across the face and laughs as you cum, shoving back into your throat while you’re still riding out the aftershocks.

He pulls back out, and you whine until he yanks you up by the bicep and pushes you over to the padded bench, bending you over it and shoving into your sopping cunt.

“Still disappointed?” he teases.

“N-no,” you pant. “Please hurt me.”

“Beg me properly, greedy little cunt.”

You clench around him just at the words, but obey. “Please, sir, please hurt me so I can cum. Please.”

“I’ve been hurtin’ you all night, baby,” he says, voice thick with false pity. “Don’t you want me to be gentle with you now?” He can feel how hard you’re trying not to cum as he mocks you.

“No,” you sob. “No, love me, hurt me, please.”

It’s got an edge of desperation and heartbreak to it that he just loves.

He smacks your already bruising ass until you sob harder, shaking uncontrollably as you cum. He wraps his hands around your throat and fucks you through it until he cums, hips stuttering, and filling your cunt with his spend.

He lets himself collapse a little on top of you, pinning you with his weight against the bench with his softening cock still buried in you. “Feel loved now?”

You’re still crying, and when he folds his arms around your chest, elbows resting on the table, you cling to him. “Love you,” you murmur over and over, pressing kisses up and down his forearms.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing and sucking at you. “I know, baby. You know I love ya.” He’s half-hard—not something that happens a lot anymore at his age, so he’s not gonna waste it. He pulls out just to manhandle you up onto the bench on your back, climbing up between your legs and shoving back in.

It’s a little sloppy until he’s fully hard again; your combined cream making things a little too slippery. Once he’s erect, though, he sets a punishing pace, folding you in half with your legs up by your ears. He works your clit with his hand, relishing in the way you’re fucking exhausted and overstimulated, but your poor clit’s been neglected. It means he can twist and pull on it, tugging until you give him more and more, until you’re sobbing for mercy that you know you’ll never get.

He doesn’t ease up until he pulls out to cum over your tits and face.

“Mine,” he snarls, shoving his fingers into your swollen cunt and feeding you what’s left of his first orgasm and your… well, he’s not really sure how many. A fuckin’ lot. “You’re all mine. Little fuckin’ toy to do whatever I want, right?”

You’re still gasping for breath, having been half-suffocated in that position, but when you look at him, it’s like he’s a fucking god. “Yes, sir.”

     -broken

The day had started out fine.

He’d laid out a dress for you to wear. Sometimes, he made you go around bare for a while, just to fuck with your head a little, but he prefers to unwrap you like a present.

Plus, the sight of you crawling around in nothing but a slutty, barely-there dress is picture-fuckin’-perfect. He’d know; he’s got a bunch of ‘em on his phone.

And crawl, you do. You haven’t been allowed to walk further than a couple of feet in a long time. There’s penance to be paid if you can’t avoid it.

Joel collects your penance whenever possible, gathering what’s owed for your sins and dealing out forgiveness when it's settled. It’s how he shows his love.

And he does love you. How could he not? Such a perfect little toy. He’s spent so much time training you right to be his prized possession.

He knew it’d happen eventually, so when you commit one of the worst offenses, he has to make it count. You were testing your limits, of course; he had expected it. He had expected it months ago. It was worse now, after you’d been so good and earned so much trust. But now that you’d been nothing but his for two months, you had finally fucked up.

Your punishments were never painful. Okay, they weren’t pain-focused. Sometimes, he had to put you over his knee to let his frustration out before he could give you a proper punishment. But the pain wasn’t the point—you both liked it too damn much. No matter how much farther he took it than a regular session, and no matter how sick you were with guilt, you were always a soaking wet mess after a beating.

This time would have to be different, though.

It was time to finally break you.

He knew as soon as he got home. Not the particulars, but that you’d made a huge mistake.

On the surface, nothing was amiss. You were knelt by the door in your pretty little dress, a short number in navy blue. You had your head down and arms folded behind your back in perfect posture.

But something was off. It didn’t feel like you were happy he was home. And he was pretty sure there would only be one reason for that.

He hung up his keys but didn’t bother to take off his shoes, coming to stand in front of you. “What’d you do?”

You flinch and have to re-tense to hold the position as a sob escapes you. Your hands are balled into fists to fight the urge to cover your face. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask if you were sorry. I asked what you did.”

If it were still the early days, when this shit usually happened, he might have been just a little softer. At least until he coaxed the confession from you, anyway. But you were in too deep, now, too entangled in this life that he had little patience for your reticence.

“I—”

“I recommend you spit it out. You’ll tell me in the end, anyway.”

You start to cry. “I can’t say it.”

“You better figure it out pretty fuckin’ fast, little girl.”

“I had an orgasm,” you blurt, whimpers escalating to sobs.

He pauses. It’s worse than he thought. The rush of disappointment and anger sends his heart racing, and his fingers flex in longing for a cane.

“Did you enjoy it?” he says.

It catches you off guard. “No, I promise.”

“That’s too bad, ‘cause it’s the last one you’re gonna have for a while.”

You aren’t surprised; you’re actually relieved. Of course, of course he’ll fix you.

He finally takes his shoes off and sets his phone on the counter, beckoning you to follow him to the living room. Taking his seat on the couch, he waits until you’re settled at his feet.

“Why’d you do that, baby?”

“I-I didn’t mean to. I was edging for the last time today, and I don’t know what happened. It was just there, and I knew it, I knew it was coming, and I—” You choke on the guilt, the grief.

“You what?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t convince myself to stop. I kept thinking ‘no, you stupid cunt,’ but I couldn’t pull my hand away.”

He regards you for a moment. He’s burning inside, but trying to calculate the most effective approach.

“Thank you for telling me right away,” he says, but even though he means it, the words are cold and clipped. “Which hand?”

You look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “What?”

“Which hand did you use? Give it to me.”

You lift up your right hand, and he cradles it in his.

“Listen close.” He waits until he’s sure you’re focused on him, on his words.

This is where things have fallen apart in the past. No amount of training and manipulation can get someone across this hurdle; they have to mean it. The last thing he wants is someone running to the police because they don’t fucking understand how serious he is.

“This is going to be your last chance to back out. I will stop right now and let you pack your shit and leave. But if you stay, you’re agreeing to anything I do to you past this point.”

You bite your lip, stomach churning. “You’re scaring me,” you whisper.

“Good. You should be scared. What you’ve done is one of the worst things you could have. That’s got some serious consequences, baby.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“I gotta hurt you. Bad. Y’ain’t going to like this; I can promise you that. I can’t punish your cunt because you’re such a stupid pain slut; anything short of permanent damage is gonna make you wet. And I’m not lookin’ to do permanent damage.”

Your lip trembles, heart pounding. You’ve never been so afraid, but you’re also enthralled. Lured in by the timbre of his voice and the salvation it’s promising.

He squeezes your hand where he’s still holding onto you. “I’m going to break one of your fingers.”

Your heart falters, blood rushing. “Oh god,” you whisper, shaking your head. Instinctively, you tug back on your hand, but he grasps it tight, tight enough that you feel the bones grind under his large fingers.

“It’s up to you. That’s half the price for forgiveness. The rest is gonna be spending the night alone.”

Somehow, that sounds worse. You can’t breathe.

“Gotta choose, baby. You wanna go? I’ll pay for a cab. You can walk away, but you can’t ever come back.”

You think you might be drowning. Leave? How could you leave? There’s no debate in your head; you have nothing without Joel. Nowhere to go, no one to turn to. And the idea of losing him feels catastrophic.

You’re crying again, and you’re vaguely aware of his soothing voice trying to coach you through breathing. When you focus on him, just like he’s taught you, you start to calm down.

It’s Joel, you think. He’ll take care of you. And he said he didn’t want permanent damage. You just have to suffer for your betrayal and he’ll forgive you.

“I think I might throw up,” you warn him.

He sighs, the fear of losing you flooding away, taking some of his anger with it. “We’ll do it in the bathroom.”

He stands up, and you follow, albeit slowly, as the wave of nausea rises. You do throw up as soon as you get in the bathroom, thankfully making it to the toilet. He holds your hair and rubs his hand across your shoulder blades.

“It’s okay, baby, get it out of your system. You’re being so brave for me,” he croons. He helps you up to sit on the edge of the tub and gets you a little cup of mouthwash.

“I’ll help you brush your teeth after,” he promises. “I’d do it now, but, well. You’re probably going to puke again.”

When you’re done swishing the mouthwash, when it’s all turned to foam and you’ve spit it back in the cup, he swaps you for water. You rinse and spit that, too.

He’s laid a few things out on the counter. You feel dizzy all over again. Something tells you the comfort you feel is wrong, but he’s prepared an ice pack and medical tape, and has four little ibuprofen out next to another cup of water.

The other, louder part of you is whispering, see? He’ll take care of you. The act of wondering what’s wrong with you feels like a farce. You’re thinking it because you think you should, just going through the motions.

He takes off his belt and brings it to your mouth. You clench it between your teeth, letting a shaky breath through. His hand cups your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“I knew you were somethin’ special,” he whispers. You’re not sure he meant to.

Your whole body is shaking uncontrollably. He watches you for a moment, worried you’re going to faint, and then sits on the floor with his back against the tub, pulling you into his lap. He lays you back against his chest, caging you in with his arms and thighs. The ice pack sits to his right, already popped and frozen. Waiting.

Gently, he lifts your hand and brings it in front of your chest, taking it in his left. It’s a macabre mockery, the way he cradles it in his palm, fingers wrapped around the sides. In his right hand, he notches his thumb on the knuckle of your middle finger, bringing the other fingers in below it.

He doesn’t drag it out, doesn’t take pleasure in your terror. When he moves, it’s faster than a gunshot. Your scream is raw, breaking free from the spaces between your teeth and the belt. The taste of leather will remind you of this moment for the rest of your life.

He has the ice pack on it before you mentally register that it’s over. You’re sobbing. Horribly, he’s right, and you are sick again. He holds your hair in one fist, holding the ice pack to your mangled hand in the other.

When you’re done, he pulls you back against him, wrapping his limbs around you in a perverse embrace as you shake harder. With his free hand, he brings a damp, cool cloth to your face, cleaning you of the viscera of your sickness.

He’s shushing you, head bent close to your ear. “It’s alright, baby, it’s over. You did so good. I’m so proud. I love you so much.”

It’s good that he doesn’t expect an answer because he doesn’t get one. You’re too lost in the pain and shock.

When it’s time to take a break from the ice, he grabs the medical tape and wraps it around your index and middle fingers. You cry out again as he jostles the break. Once he’s splinted it, he lowers your hand gently to your lap so he can grab the medicine.

“I can’t; I’ll throw up again,” you say, voice cracking.

“Don’t have a choice, baby. Gotta keep the swelling down.”

He feeds you each pill, one by one, chasing them with sips of water.

You look so sad and precious that he almost feels bad. Unfortunately, he’s also rock fucking hard, so he shifts you a little to pull his dick out.

You don’t say anything when he lifts you to lower you on it. He’s careful, trying not to shake you around too much. He was right; you didn’t enjoy this pain. You’ve never been this dry for him before, and you whimper pathetically at the pinch and sting of his girth.

You may be worn out and in agony, but your cunt doesn’t get the message. He grins when he feels you getting wet and clenching around him. He doesn’t push it though, doesn’t torment you, just fucks up into you gently until he fills you.

You’re limp against him now, and he presses a kiss into your hair. “You may have to walk for a bit,” he muses. “But I’ll cap your penance at ten.”

You wince. Ten strokes with the cane on the soles of your feet every day until your finger heals? You usually only owe enough for two or three. It is a mercy, though, so you nod and thank him.

Joel can hardly contain the way his chest is flooding with warmth. You’re so close; he can feel it. So close to being completely his to put together just the way he likes.

He can’t wait to take you to The Pit.

     -kintsugi

You’re cold. So cold. You’re curled in on yourself, tucked into a corner in the hopes that you’d be able to keep warmer. Your whole right hand throbs.

Moonlight only cuts across the corner, but it’s a comfort still. The soil is loose and you keep shuddering, feeling the tickle of a dozen phantom insects.

Worst of all, your chest aches, like he may as well have hewn you open. Dry sobs work their way free every now and then, leaving your mouth tacky and your throat full of cotton.

The only rest you get is when you blessedly pass out. Every time you close your eyes voluntarily, you see the heartbroken look on his face when you begged him not to leave you there.

“I wish I didn’t have to. I wish you hadn’t broken my trust and I could keep you close, baby. But you’re never going to learn how to be good if I don’t show ya.”

Bad, I’m bad, he doesn’t want me anymore, you think to no end.

When the sun starts to rise, you’re limp, still in your corner. You barely turn your head when a shadow falls over The Pit, but your heart starts to pound when the lock clicks, and Joel raises the gate.

“Oh, baby,” he says, soft and sorrowful. “C’mere.” He reaches out a hand, and you scramble to him, letting him take your left arm in his grasp and pull you out. You move immediately to your knees, body bent forward as your knotted muscles protest. He scoots his boot out of the danger zone near your broken finger.

You keep whispering, a broken record of “Sorry, please, I’m so sorry.”

He picks you up and holds you to his chest, shushing until you fall quiet. It doesn’t take longer than a few seconds as your brain desperately clings to any scrap, any way you can be good for him.

He brushes the loose dirt from you before going inside and upstairs to the ensuite. He sets you on the little rug next to the full garden tub, and he tests the water with his fingers before peeling his clothes off.

You flex your left hand, balling it in and out of a fist. You’ve never been particularly ambidextrous and wonder how you’re going to wash him without falling in or hurting your hand.

Before he gets in, he feeds you four more little red pills. Once he’s settled, he reaches out and guides you carefully by the waist, pulling you into his lap in the warm water.

That’s all it takes for you to start crying again. He doesn’t try to quiet you; just holds you there against his chest and lets you sob.

By the time you’ve calmed, the water has cooled, but instead of getting out, he just drains a little and runs more hot water.

Joel tips your chin up gently with the knuckle of his index finger. “You ready to be my good girl again?”

You nod, lip trembling.

Joel does nothing you hadn’t asked for. The trouble for you was that you asked for too much. Gave him too much. And it was far too late to get any of it back.

He gave what he could, though. Couldn’t replace what he’d taken, so he pours himself in the cracks, puts you back together with a firm hand and loving care. Sure, his love doesn’t look like what you’re used to, but he knows you see it for what it is.

“I know, baby. You took that all so well. Don’t worry,” he pauses to kiss you, “I forgive you. My perfect little toy.”

pls be nice, I'm so nervous about this.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dddne #tw noncon #non con #dark fic #tw abuse #seriously heed the warnings #don't like don't read #deaddovedecember2023

[neoarchipelago]

My mind is wrapped around the idea of Y/N already having a baby girl even if she's young, the dad ran off and she's single mothering this beautiful three years old. And when she gets close to Simon and they become friends he unexpectedly encounters her daughter.

Turns out she loves her Ghosty. To the point she will cling to him when he visits y/n's flat on base. And at first he's a bit scared, he's not good with kids, it reminds him of his nephew Joseph, and he's not sure he can handle it. But he also starts to feel protective over the child to the point he's too often at your flat, helping out, and sometimes babysitting. You were shocked the first time he offered after an unexpected meeting showed up. You were worried about leaving her with Simon at the last minute but you melted when you arrived home, seeing them play on the living room floor as she drank a juice box lazily.

"Simon..."

The kind look he was throwing your daughter made your heart jump in your chest.

It turned into a habit. Sometimes Ghost would stay late just to be able to read her a story. And it was on one of these nights that he held you close to him in the kitchen, pushing you against the wall softly, kissing you with a passion he was trying to keep at bay at all costs. Lost in the fever of the moment. It was embarrassing the next day, but you tried to reassure him that it was ok. You didn't mind. And that fueled him to get closer, despite the fact that he was terrified to get attached to the both of you. Like he hadn't already.

And then one day he has to babysit, you're on field training with recruits, and he's called on base by Price for a meeting with Laswell. He feels trapped but cannot refuse so he takes her with him and she's so happy to go with Ghosty to base.

This man practically infiltrates the base. Making sure that not even the security cameras see him with the child. No one should know. No one should think about a correlation between the child and him. The little girl is giggling as she sees her Ghosty act like a spy on a mission.

And then he falls into the main problem. Ok she's on base with him. But he has the meeting. So what? He sighs and says 'fuck it', absolutely horrified when the little girl repeats after him, but he heads straight to the meeting room. He needs a deep breath when he steps inside and when he does, his team and Laswell stare in absolute shock. Price doesn't understand but is smiling widely, Soap is way too excited and gaz just stands there smiling. Laswell is hiding a smile behind the file she's holding.

Soap tries to get closer and the girl in Simon's hold hugs him tighter, hiding in his neck. Simon throws the darkest glare he ever threw at someone, making soap stop dead in his tracks and pretend to look away as he rubs the back of his head.

The girl sits in his lap during the whole meeting taking everyone's attention once in a while. Price offered her paper and pens, highlighters. She happily draws her Ghosty, and the men standing now around the room. They gush over the drawings and she's thrilled.

When you're made aware of the situation you run throughout the base to the meeting room where you find them all playing with your daughter, soap having one of her hair clips in his hair, gaz letting her draw on his arm with a sharpie and Simon eyeing the whole situation like a hawk. Price and Laswell immediately soothe you, telling you it's ok. Simon apologizes profusely but you understand. After all she was safe. How could she not when the Task force 141 was babysitting her.

After that Simon tried to keep the team away but they are insistently asking him to bring her back. You explain that it's too dangerous and you'd rather keep her away from the middle of the base, Simon happy that you shut them down. Until you offer them to pass by the flat to dine. He feels slightly jealous, he likes having you and the child all to himself, like a happy little family-

He finds himself thinking that more and more. His little family. And the relationship between him and you only seems to grow. Now he stays sleeping. You both steal kisses when your daughter isn't looking. One special night you both give in to each other, rolling around in your sheets before falling asleep tightly snuggled together. Embarrassment had washed over you when your daughter ran into the room in the morning finding you both sleeping together. But she happily squealed that he had stayed for a sleepover.

And then it turns to dates. The team is happily babysitting during a short period of time. He stays practically all the time at the flat and he offers flowers and toys and looks at you like you're the world. He loves you, he admits it to himself and later on to you. The feeling of your reciprocated feelings makes him the happiest man alive.

----

I got more to write but it's 3am and I should go to sleep.....

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley

[thefandomthings]

Hello! I have a request for you prompt event! May I request OM!Simeon with the prompt 10.?

Thank you in advance!

❝𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲❞

Fluff Prompt #10: "You're really fucking cute when you are jealous."

Pairing: Simeon x Gn!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff

Notes: I wasn't sure which #10 so I went with the fluff prompt #10! Second request of the prompt event, so happy that people are participating! Thank you for the request nony! I apologize if he is OOC I've been written for him before.

Prompt event

Simeon is a calm person, very simple and very old fashioned. He loves you with all of his heart; he will shamelessly admit he stays up thinking about you and how beautiful you are.

Even as an angle, he can't help but be a little jealous of those who have your full attention. Watching the way your kind eyes look at the person with such interest, making them feel wanted and heard.

He loves you for how attentive and caring you are, but it also doesn't sit right with how the person is looking at you; like you hung the stars. That's how he's supposed to look at you, but to him you hung the whole universe. The heavens don't come close to how bright you shimmer in the darkest of nights.

Simeon casually strolls over to the two of you, his gloved hand coming to rest on the small of your back, fingers gently pressing into your soft, clothed flesh. You gaze up at him so lovingly through you're pretty eyelashes, his heart squeezes with love and adoration.

The person you were talking to doesn't seem bothered by Simeon on the surface, but deep down your angelic boyfriends intuition senses his displeasure.

You notice the way his eyes are sharp and his jaw was slightly tense, his grip on you proprietorial, this was a new side of Simeon you've yet to see, and to be honest you found it quite attractive and cute.

Simeon gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead, his heterochromia eyes staring at your new 'friend' across the table.

"My apologies, but I'll have to take them from you." Simeon says as he gently leads you away from the table by your waist.

"You look ravishing, my love". He squeezes your waist lovingly. You giggle holding onto his hip, your fingers dancing across the bare skin that shows from his clothes.

"Simeon, my dear," You press multiple kisses to his cheek and jawline. "You are really fucking cute when you are jealous."

Simeon can't help the rosy tint appearing on his tan skin, his pupils dilating as you call him out. You can read him just as good as he can read you, god he loves you.

"My apologies, I can't help myself, you are just too perfect." He gives you an adorable smile then presses a kiss your lips.

#obey me #thefandomthings #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #writing prompt #prompt event #obey me headcannons #obey me imagine #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me brothers #obey me belphie

[middleearthpixie]

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.  

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room. 

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice. 

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups. 

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him. 

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh. 

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations. 

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop. 

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it. 

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand. 

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else. 

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee. 

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so. 

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left. 

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.” 

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes? 

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there. 

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.” 

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood. 

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him. 

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.  

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold. 

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare. 

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples. 

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had. 

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.” 

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well. 

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own. 

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms. 

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.” 

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

Like it? Love it? Reblog it! Comments are also welcomed!

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#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Richard Armitage #Thorin x reader #Thorin x you #nonny asks #pixie answers

[maxwellatoms]

What kind of video games do you like to play Mr. Atoms?

So many! Assuming there's time. These days there's generally not, so I've been bingeing Vampire Survivors in half-hour doses.

Above is a gif from Noita, my top game of the pandemic. It's an old-school "Metroidvania", but every pixel is simulated and you're a witch who can manipulate her spells (and thereby the world) in a seemingly infinite number of ways. Here, I've built magical "buzzsaws" around myself, which blinded me to the shadow amoeba. In Noita, almost every death is due to hubris, and I think I love that pendulum swing. If you're lucky and skilled, you can become a walking whirlwind of destruction, but you're always your own worst enemy. Bonus: You can turn your vomit into rats.

I'm currently on a break in the midst of my Baldur's Gate 3 run, with a party consisting of my BG2 character's daughter, Karlatch, Lazelle, and Shadowheart. Ladies' Night!

I'm also playing a bit of Shadows of Doubt. I'm not sure it'll hold up long-term, but it's got a lot of potential.

I don't really limit myself by genre or platform, but I'd say that I primarily play indie PC games. The games in my Steam library that I keep going back to again and again?

Cities: Skylines: A chill City Building Simulator. Lots of fun mods.

Darkest Dungeon: This thing is a classic strategy game IMO.

Death Road to Canada: A light, fast Project Zomboid. Dogs with guns!

Dwarf Fortress: For me, it's the ultimate fantasy sim. I love it so much. Looking forward to Adventure Mode finally appearing on Steam.

Project Zomboid: The ultimate lonely 2D zombie apocalypse survival game. Or non-survival game, I suppose.

Total War: Warhammer: For when I'm in a strategy-y mood. Like a lot of people, I'm a bit soured on the modern DLC scene, so I'm still waiting on #3 even though I'm a Chaos stan.

Not on Steam? I do play some Star Citizen from time to time. I backed it a decade ago. I used to joke that it was the game I was going to retire into, but more and more that's looking less and less like a joke. Still, it's made some good progress in the last couple of years and I'm hopeful that repair and engineering turn out to be fun.

The game I'm looking forward to most would be the next Elder Scrolls. I know it's still a ways off. Ever since my Nereverine landed in Morrowind with the intention of becoming a just and righteous cleric and instead found herself an unwitting villain and colonizer, I fell in love with the Elder Scrolls and it's deep, gray lore. It is (for me) a great way to really get into a character's head. Roleplaying... go figure.

Since Morrowind (and a backtrack into Daggerfall), I only allow myself one canon playthrough. My rule is to "let it ride", so that aside from death, if I screw up or if something unexpected happens I don't save-scum. All of my characters are related, either by quest or bloodline. I already know that my next character will be Aventus Aretino (the kid you catch summoning the Dark Brotherhood). My Skyrim character (above) had adopted him and then left him in the hands of a vampire, so I should be covered even if there's a big time jump. Now I just have to wait six more years for the game. And then maybe two for mods. God I'm so old.

I need to spend more time with Dave the Diver.

Anything current I'm missing out on?

#maxwell atoms #video games #all over the map

[transmascaraa]

Hi it's 🍓 anon again! Can I have the characters from my last request (the usual hehe) for possibly something with the plot of Snow white? /(⁠≧ U ⁠≦⁠)/

Like reader gets poisoned by an apple (someone gives it to us 🤯), basically dies or something (falls asleep I guess) and has to be kissed to wake up, I want the ANGST to be there 😈 but I want us to wake up in the end too because yes. You could also have them hunt down the ugly bastard that poisons us if you want to 💗

Hope your night is well 🎀

multiple characters headcannons!

snow white au✧

characters: gaming, bennett, tighnari, cyno, wanderer x snow white!gn!reader

author's note: that's a really good idea for an au lol i really like it so i hope you like this one too<3

☆ Gaming

-you'd get poisoned by some dumb bitch and he would notice that you're not coming home. so ofc he went out looking for you.

-soon enough, he found you, laying on the ground in some deep, dark forest.

-not knowing what he had to do, he fell to his knees and started crying. breaking down, begging you to wake up, holding you hand.

-no, you weren't dead, right?!

-it's almost as if a ghost told him, he felt the need to kiss you for one last time. to feel your lips once again.

-he laid his lips on yours, and instead of feeling the warm feeling, they were cold...

-he pulled away and started crying harder, muttering a little "goodbye" to you.

-then, he noticed you were starting to wake up.

-"h-huh? [name]?!" he asks as he looks at you again, wiping his tears.

-"gaming..." you slowly say, getting up and stretching out a bit.

-he'll never leave you alone for a second once again...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Bennett

-he'd notice that you're not there, and he would ask EVERYONE in mondstadt if they've seen you

-after realizing that they don't, he starts looking for you.

-he doesn't know what to do, he's worried, only making himself more unlucky.

-falling over a bunch of times, bleeding knees a bit, but he finally found you...

-laying on the ground, motionless.

-he was shocked, he quickly ran to you, and checked your pulse.

-you weren't alive.

-he starts crying hard, doing literally anything that might get you back to life.

-shaking you, burning a little circle on your hand, pinching your arm, holding your hand tight, nothing worked.

-the then kissed you.

-"am i really this unlucky..." he cries, putting his knees to his chesk, burying his head in them.

-then, he feels a hand on his back.

-"it's okay, i'm back now..."

-he cannot express the happiness he felt at that very moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✯ Tighnari

-after literally you not picking up the phone 2 times, he started looking for you in the darkest sumeru rainforest. also called the most dangerous one.

-where could you possibly be?

-at first, he wasn't all that worried, but after you not being there for a long while now, he started to overthink a bit, but tried to brush it off.

-finally, he saw you. but you seemed dead.

-tighnari, with his heart racing at an incredible pace, checked if you had any pulse.

-you didn't.

-shitshitshitshitshit he was trying not to cry so hard, just looking at your dead body right before him.

-how could he not know where you were?

-he cursed at himself, feeling a bit of guilt.

-and as a goodbye, he kissed you softly, like never before.

-he turned around, not wanting to break down-

-"tighnari..." you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up.

-he turned around, surprised to see you awake.

-he started crying tears of happiness, but tried to mask it with scolding you.

-"i-idiot! what were you doing in the forest all alone!?" he said, putting his hands on your shoulders.

-he will make sure that whoever did this to you gets the same to happen to them...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✷ Cyno

-you're not there?

-he's looking for you already.

-far, far away, in the desert.

-where the hell could you be!?

-reassuring himself by saying that you were messing with him.

-until...

-your body layed limp in a small shadow.

-"[name]!?" he called out, running to you.

-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck he's panicking but trying to keep his composure.

-but he's struggling.

-he tried everything, he spilled all of his water onto you, that he needed for his thirst. it was the desert, after all.

-then, he tried cpr like how tighnari taught him.

-hopeless, he gets up, and starts walking away, wiping off his tears.

-"cy... cy-cyno..." you mutter out, trying to get up, looking at his back.

-he turns around shockingly, then runs towards you. he hugs you tight.

-"who." he says, a serious look on his face, despite the tears.

-you tell him who did it, and after that, you never see that person again...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

｡ Wanderer

-he gets worried pretty fast, i mean, judging by his backstory...

-so he calls you, but you don't answer. he goes out looking for you. he's flying over sumeru looking for you.

-you're nowhere to be found.

-he's worrying, worrying so much. his nonexistent heart is beating out of his chest right now. he's scared.

-his eyes keep watering, but he keeps wiping them away.

-all until he sees you in some dark forest, laying down on the grass, not moving. an apple beside you.

-he flies down, he doesn't even wipe his tears anymore, he's crying. he's breaking down.

-he throws the apple into some bushes, realizing it was poisonous already at the look of it.

-he shakes you, he begs you, he yells, he screams.

-laying his head on your chest after so much tension, just crying and begging you quietly.

-"you can't betray me too... idiot..." he raises his head up for one last time, giving you a kiss before burying his face in your neck.

"you broke your promise too, liar..." he closes his eyes, letting his tears flow freely. he was too weak now. too weak to even call you an idiot again.

-he feels you move. he feels a hand on his hair, ruffling it weakly.

-"i didn't... thank you..." you mumble, keeping your eyes open.

-and there, he promised you he would kill them.

-tomorrow morning, there was a person said to be gone missing, last seen in the comfort of their home...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it's good

i like it i love the snow white au fr

hope you like it 🍓anon<3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #bennett x you #bennett x reader #gaming x you #gaming x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #cyno x you #cyno x reader #finally did it lol #⑅⁠čikonyxo's post🎭

[spdrvyn]

im begging for miguel x reader where he’s sick/tired/woke up from a nightmare and is in desperate need of shooting. so she takes care of him - pure domestic contentment- grooming him/washing/shaving/brushing hair/towel drying/changing clothes (and socks 🥺)/feeding him - doing everything to relax him and make him feel loved

solace in your sweetness

summary: in the deep trenches of the night, miguel wakes up due to night terrors and you're very deadset on comforting him. no matter how many times he denies you that.

tags: hurt/comfort. very sweet and fluffy. reader isn't a spider-person. fem!reader.

notes: i love this request so so much, i have been ITCHING to do it. thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Miguel didn't really have nightmares when he was younger. On the occasion that Gabe would bother him to watch a scary movie, there would be instances where he had them, but it wasn't a regular occurence. How naïve was he when he thought that he'd be able to leave those behind in his youth?

It started simple, he would be in the barren, empty streets of Nueva York. Before he would slowly watch every thing dissolve around him, glitch by glitch, pixel by pixel, unable to do anything but to just stand there, before he fell into the abyss and woke up.

The darkest part of his mind had always managed to make the scenario more horrifying, another time it was zombies, another time it was zombies again, but of only Gabriella. There was even a version where he was being chased by the other dead version of himself. He consulted many articles, read and bought a lot of books, and even tried meditating, but none of it worked so he just decided to live with it for a while. It wasn't like they happened every night, no big deal.

Though, it was a big deal to you. Which was his true fear, he didn't want you to fawn over something so trivial. He didn't want you to go out of your way to take care of him, despite how much it would fill the big, gaping hole in his heart.

So when he jolts awake from another night terror, he keeps himself as quiet as possible. He slowly looked over to the side of your bed, relieved to see that you were still in a peaceful sleep. He shifts silently and keeps his footsteps light as he makes his way over to the kitchen for some tea. The calming, minty aroma sweeped his senses, but it'd be better to work right now instead of relax.

He went back to the bedroom, setting the teacup down on the bedside before pulling out a small tablet. He winced as it opened, the brightness of it hurting his eyes even with glasses on. After lowering it, he immediately goes to rifle through his files.

That is until he felt the weight of your head on his shoulders, you looked up at him with a frown. "You're working."

"I am," Miguel spoke like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. As embarrassed as he was, it was too late. You should probably be going back to sleep, he remembered that you also had work early tomorrow. "I just got thirsty, go back to sleep, cariño."

A bald-faced lie, would you believe it or would you not? Your brows furrowed and your pout deepened, it made Miguel's palms sweat. Moments like these forced him to think if you really did have superpowers, there were too many instances where it seemed like you read his mind word for word.

"Why are you lying to me, Miguel?" Shock. It was his face, wasn't it? "Did you have any another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

Miguel's pride had shattered, you were too good at this. A little more and you'd be unmasking every single villain in the city. "You need to be up early, I just didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep." He closed his files and turned off his tablet, this was his fate now.

You all but groaned at his remark, kicking the bedsheets off of your body before stamping out of the bedroom. "Where are you-"

"Stay there, don't move an inch." He didn't want to incur God's wrath, so he obeys. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the pillows, his smell picked up on the scent of food being freshly cooked. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but by the lord, it smelled delicious.

Miguel was left there to wait for a while, this sort of reminded him of his younger days too, granted a lot more blissful. There were times when he was younger where Gabe had nightmares too, he'd come knocking on Miguel's door, asking if he could stay there for a while or if he could play video games with him.

To which Miguel would begrudgingly agree, but he normally tried to keep Gabe as uninterested in whatever they were doing as possible so that he could fall asleep already. This usually resulted in him falling asleep then Miguel having to sleep on the couch, but it was whatever. I mean, he only stopped doing that at the young age of 11.

So now being the one taken care of, it made Miguel feel like there was an outside force tipping the scales. After being a caretaker, one way or another, his whole life, having you step in and take him for a breather was like seeing a fish head on a lion's body.

You came back soon enough with a plate and spoon in hand, it was made clear to Miguel exactly what you were cooking. Tomato sauce with meatballs, you diced a small bit of the beef with the spoon before scooping some soup up, bringing it close to his mouth. "Ahhh,"

"I can eat on my—"

"Ahhhhh."

"For shock's sake—" he quickly took a bite, his eyes lit up as he swallowed. "It's good."

You smiled knowingly, finally allowing him to feed himself as you handed him the plate. "I know," then your expression hardened. "I'd like to talk to you about what you dreamt about, if that's okay with you." Miguel sighed, reaching over to the bedside to take a long sip of his tea.

His heart told him that it was perfectly fine for you to know about what was troubling him for so long now, but his mind, his rationale, told him to shut his trap about anything that could cause you any sort of worry or distress. When he doesn't respond to you after another moment, you lean in closer.

"Miguel, I'm always going to worry about you." You whispered, "That's just how I am, but it's because I love you. I love you so much that I can feel how much you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it from me."

"I love you too," he closed the gap to press a kiss to the crease on your forehead, you released a short breath. "I just- I don't know how to say it, I guess."

You placed a hand on his chest, "I can put the pieces together, I just want you to get this off your chest." He wished he had the ability to deny you, you're his weakness, especially when you bat your eyelashes and look at him so sweetly like you have all the love in the world to give.

He tells you as much as he can about his dream, it's all a mess. There were many parts that he wished he could just go back and erase, he didn't even want to go through with this idea in the first place. But you were so... understanding of him, it felt creepy. Not creepy, that wasn't the right word, but it was unsettling.

Being comforted by someone else always made Miguel feel like the other person had a 'holier than thou' attitude, that or he was horribly pitied to the point where he didn't want to keep opening up anymore. You carried none of those qualities, you simply nodded, listened in pure silence, but you'd chime in with some remarks every now and again. He doesn't know how he got so lucky with you.

You gave him some advice. Miguel's experiences were gut-wrenching which resulted to his night terrors, but you could share the sentiment. To some degree, at least. The advice was to just talk about it, letting that feeling build over time and dreading the next time you fall asleep would result to more casualties in the long run. And that if he had no other people to turn to, you were the first on his roster (granted he'd talk to you first anyway, but that's besides the point).

After putting away his empty plate, you joined him in bed again, it's probably still very late into the night, only three hours until you get up for work, but you didn't mind as long as you got to spend it with Miguel. However he wishes to.

The feeling of yours lips on his forehead, face nuzzled into his hair while your fingers drew shapes into his back.

The way he wrapped his arms around your hips, slotting one of his legs in between yours, and the sound of your heartbeat.

He falls into a blissful sleep, knowing you will protect him from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. For once in his life, Miguel has been taken care of and he's so glad that it's you.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #fluff #hurt/comfort

[hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha]

Happy Wife, Happy Life.

Hantengu clones x Fem!Reader [Yandere-Angst-Fluff]

Part one.

Dividers by Saradika

Dividers by Saradika

Y/N = Your Name

Synopsis: Another punishment causes her to finally go cold with her 'beloveds'. They finally know what has been bubbling up inside of her after the many harsh punishments given to her.

Warnings: Possessiveness (duh), gaslighting(?), manipulation, coddling, isolation, monophobia, stalking, reader loses her shit at them, ANGST, more suffering! :D

Requested by: luvcOree

Ps: I didn't notice that my tumblr auto updated and I had saved this on schedule only to find out that I couldn't edit it, so I had to delete the whole thing and rewrite it only to find out later that you could edit the post 😭 so that's why I have to reset to this- I'M SORRY

(Look at this goofy fella I found on pinterest)

This morning was no different from the others except for a little bit of harsh weather. Y/N was simply cooking for herself while also being deep in thought. She's been thinking about her family for some time now, especially her sibling. She's been missing her mother and father dearly and it's been eating up at her for too long, she can't take it anymore. After having finished making herself her meal, the woman took a deep, nervous breath and left for the dark room her husbands stayed during daytime. Walking up the stairs, Y/N was certain that they had already heard her since she was in the kitchen and by the time she arrived, they were all in the darkest corners of the room, or in this case, he was. "Dear?" He was quick to flinch at the mere sound of her voice, but that was just him in general which did not surprise Y/N in the slightest. Hantengu, the main body of the clones, was currently the only one present due to the clones not being seperated. They often stayed merged together with Hantengu to avoid the sun and only revealed themselves at night. This gave Hantengu time to spend with her since his clones would all simply want her attention to themselves (if you like the clones, love him too beuz they're all the same person). "Y.. Yes?" The demon answered timidly to his wife as she entered the room, closing the shōji door behind her.

Y/N inhaled deeply before timidly asking him the question. "May I go spend some time with my family for today? I promise I'll be home early! I just... want to see them. It's been too long..." To Y/N, this was nothing more than a simple request and perhaps even a reward for having been the obedient wife they wanted and giving them all an equal amount of attention, keeping them all satisfied. To the Hantengus however, this was a question they all dreaded. Their dear wife asking to go outside, even more so to visit someone? What was wrong with staying home? They provide her with everything she needs, get her everything she asks for one way or another. What more does she want? Cowardly as the demon may be, he could not let his dear go. Not the one who he knows believes in his innocence. Not the one he needs. "N.. No... You can't! W-What if you get hurt and.. and I'm not... there?" "But it's just my family! I'll just be there for today and nowhere else! Please, let me go visit them!" But the wife was desperate. She doesn't ask much of neither him or the clones, much less Zohakuten, who she knows is more strict and harsh. Y/N does as she is told, stays home where she is safe and gives them attention. Even Urami and Zohakuten on the rare occasions they reveal themselves. Y/N is a good wife, never asks for anything, but this time, she was desperate. She even said that she'll be home before dusk. But the husbands, they disagree. She cannot leave. She'd be out of their sights, vulnerable, in danger. They cannot risk their lovely wife dying, the risk is too grave. "No! You c-cannot go! You'll... You'll get hurt!" What would he do without her? What they do without her? All he would offer is to stay home and spend some time with him which she reluctantly agreed to. Y/N wasn't happy. She could never be happy. Her family! She needs to see them at least once after having left without much of a valid explanation.

If they wouldn't let her see them once, then she'll go herself with or without their permission.

For the entire day until dark, Y/N was with Hantengu and didn't really do much. She did have some surprisingly pleasant conversations (and with his constant complaining of the evil around him and that he is an innocent demon), cuddled with him the same way she would with the clones, took a day nap and so on. However, while she was a sweet and loving wife towards him, she was waiting for him to leave in search for humans to eat and to find the Blue Spider Lily for his master. Soon, evening would arrive and Hantengu would go out for his hunt and mission leaving Y/N alone until he would return. She watched him shrink and leave through the dark forest of where their shared home is located. When she was sure she was alone, she too would leave. Y/N would pack her delicious sweets for her parents and sibling before then leaving her home.

After almost forty five minutes of travelling by foot, Y/N finally made it to the home of her parents. luckily for her, her sibling was there as well. Running up to the door excitedly, Y/N knocked and waited for one of her family members to open for her. Eventually, all would go as she had hoped. Y/N managed to see her parents after so long, caught up with her sibling and would finally be able to spend some time with them after not having seen them in so long. She laughed, she conversed, she cooked with her father/ mother, played with her sibling like children once more knowing that Hantengu would return at midnight. But that wasn't the case this time.

___

The clones were beyond furious that their wife was not where they had left her. They were all lucky enough to have returned home early after successfully killing demon slayers and humans, but another unsuccessful scavenge for the Blue Spider Lily. The entire ordeal had left them all irritated as usual and simply wanted to be comforted by the loving embrace of their betrothed only to find out that she wasn't there. Sekido yelled and threw a fit, as expected from the clone of anger, and in a desperate attempt to have her back, he forcefully fused. The only reasons the others did not have a problem with Sekido's rather daring stunt is of course for none other than Y/N. Once Zohakuten was formed and Urami had revealed himself, both clones immediately went for the search of their beloved wife. They immediately knew where she was anyways and she would return by choice or by force.

___

Both clones watched from afar as Y/N laughed loudly with a person who they assume is their sibling. Neither of them could believe she would ever do such a thing despite having been told that she wasn't allowed to go! Both would soon close in on the home of where she was, but would keep their distance. Zohakuten would hit one of his drums and would command one of his wooden dragon heads to close in and for Y/N to return. He was still quite furious at the fact that she left despite having been told not to and Urami even more so. It wouldn't be long before Y/N noticed a strange piece of wood moving and eventually realise who it was. Soon, she would bid her family farewell and leave as they hoped she would. Without wasting any more time, she went to the forested area where Urami and Zohakuten stood and would timidly approach. Zohakuten gave her a steely glare and simply pointed towards his wooden dragon head while Urami would already begin his scolding. "How dare you leave! You had us all worried sick! Did we not tell you that you could not visit your family? You could've gotten hurt or worse! Do you know how much it would've broken us if you did?" That is all she heard until she arrived home. Urami carried her inside and placed her down before shrinking back to Hantengu, who began to bawl his eyes out. Zohakuten eyed Hantengu for a moment with pity before returning his intimidating gaze back to her. "How dare you leave me, woman. Have you no shame? I thought you were hurt!" Zohakuten continued to go off angrily at Y/N, blaming her for his anxiety and worry. Being the foul-mouthed boy he is, he cursed in his sentences. "You ungrateful wench! This time, punishment will be longer and harsher! You want to disobey me? Fine! I've been too lenient with your behavior!" Said the boy while dragging her by the wrist to the solitary room. "I'm sorry! I just wanted to-" "Silence! I won't hear it!" The door to her punishment once again opened as Zohakuten then so rudely shoved her into the room, this time without a candle before slamming and locking the door shut. "No... No!" Begging would get her nowhere. Not this time.

"Sweet thing... You've disappointed me."

"When we tell you something, you listen. You will regret disobeying us."

"My little songbird, I thought we had an agreement!"

"... Perhaps a harsher treatment shall remind you not to disobey us again, dewdrop."

And it starts again.

But she didn't beg this time. Perhaps a few tears, but Y/N didn't beg nor did she scream or cry. It dawned on her that perhaps they truly don't care for her feelings and only their own. Perhaps they are selfish monsters who only want to hurt her for their own amusement. At least, that's what their wife began to think. Y/N dragged her futon to the corner and made herself comfortable (as comfortable as she could get in a cold, dark and solitary room), simply staring up at the ceiling in the pitch black room deep in thought of the husbands she loved so much. Before long, the woman fell asleep with a new hatred for her husbands.

The punishment went on for three days instead of the usual two hours. Three entire days of no social interaction, not a word from them and almost no food or water as well. The clones truly did consider depriving her of human necessities, but Urogi had convinced them to be more merciful on their poor wife, having convinced them that she would learn her lesson.

The end of her punishment had arrived. It was over and the clones couldn't wait to hear her say that she had learned her lesson. That she would be a good wife and admit that she will be home where it's safe. That she'll apologise for her misbehaviour. But no, that's not what happened. The clones were absolutely shocked at her behavior when they finally let her out of the room. She was irritable, scornful and suddenly sharp-tongued almost as if someone had flipped a switch and changed her personality entirely. She didn't even want to be in his same room as them, much less have them look at her. Even Sekido began trying the gentle treatment to get closer to her, but that didn't work. "Dewdrop... What happened to her... This isn't the woman I married..." Aizetsu's sapphire coloured eyes began tearing up as he thought of her disrespectful behavior. Y/N would spout hurtful comments at them and express her hatred towards them as if they had hurt her in some way and Aizetsu, he hated that very much. It made him quite sad. "How dare she speak to us that way!" Sekido growled angrily while thinking of her new behavior towards them. Karaku and Urogi stayed mostly silent about the situation, thinking of what could've happened for her to act like this (hm, I wonder why). They would all continue to discuss among themselves, trying to figure out a way to get closer to her without being met with scorn. "It doesn't matter if either three of us say it, she won't believe us. She'll just shove us away and continue with this." Urogi argues while looking at Sekido. It is true, any apology from either Karaku or Urogi would sound fake and from Aizetsu would sound merely like something to ease her hard feelings. "He's right, you know..." Karaku mumbles quietly while playing around with his uchiwa.

Aizetsu knew Sekido would have a huge problem with apologising since he finds it pathetic for someone such as himself, and considering the emotion he is, he would absolutely refuse due to his pride and brash personality. "I already told you fools, I'm not going to apologise!" "Then how do you want her to trust us again, Sekido? If we want our dear back, we have to apologise." Said the relaxed clone in a rather stern tone. Karaku would be the last clone to ever speak in such a stern and serious tone due to his mischievous behavior, but there were times even he knew when it was needed. He got up from where he said and got face-to-face with his older self, staring at him with a blank expression. "You do it. You'd be the most convincing out of all of us. That or we risk losing her, because then, we'd have to move to measures that we would all like to avoid for her sake." Sekido knew exactly what Karaku meant, he wasn't stupid. If they let her continue this, she would grow more reckless and rebellious, and they couldn't risk that. The vexed clone huffed reluctantly, acknowledging the fact that what his clone stated was indeed correct. He, out of every clone, is least likely to apologise and admit that he was wrong. It's a rather stupid solution in his eyes, but the one that they've come up with currently and they will act on it.

So, with a deep breath and some preparation from his clone brethren, he walks to the room where his lovely wife is to apologise. "Y/N-" "You again? I told you not to even look at me, you disgusting demon!" Those hurtful comments irked him, yes, but if he wanted to get on her good side again, he would have to swallow his pride and apologise like a mature adult. "What do you want from me? Just looking at your hellish eyes makes me sick! How did I even fall in love with you?" Her crude comments continue to flow freely and uncensored as if he were a mere stranger to her. The woman didn't even give him a chance to speak which led him to approach her in the blink of an eye, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Will you let me speak, woman?" Sekido asked and as usual, his snappy tone seemed to slip through. This did not come off well to the wife, as she merely continued to berate him and his clones. Finally, Sekido lost it and yelled at her, shutting her up for the moment. "LISTEN TO ME. I..." It was a struggle trying to utter those embarrassing words. A demon doesn't apologise, much less an Upper Moon! How dare she make him seem like a fool! How dare she make him be so- so... so weak! This wasn't how things were supposed to be! But... Sekido will play nice, for now, suck it up and apologise. "I'm... sor... I..." Sekido huffs again while interally cursing at himself for being so pathetic. ["It's just a damn sentence...!"] His monstrous grip tightens, but he remembers to tone it down for her fragile human body. After almost a minute of struggling to get out a simple sentence, Sekido does it. It was the simple thought of Y/N leaving him that pushed him to do so. What would they do without her? Who would calm him down when he would have one of his rage fits? Who would Karaku tell his hunts and mission to? Who would keep Aizetsu from sulking? Who would preen Urogi's wings? Who would love him?

There was no one like you. Not in their demented eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Her expression immediately went from annoyed and hateful to shocked and confused. Sekido apologising? What possessed him to do such a 'shameful' act? "I... Understand that what we did to you was too far... My dear wife." It was rough at first, but soon, the words flowed out flawlessly. "My dear wife, I apologise for my and Zohakuten's brash behavior. In a moment of desperation I lost my composure and did not realise what the consequences of my actions would lead to." It was pathetic, but better to seem like a fool than lose the one thing you cannot live without. But she wouldn't fall for it a second time. "How dare you..." Sekido was understandably surprised. "You think a simple apology would have me running back into your arms like the many, many times before? Have you forgotten what you did to me, Sekido? Have you forgotten the many tears I cried because of my fear?" No, he did not. Did they really think she was going to forget it all just like that? All the torture, the punishment just because they did not see whatever she did that time fit? "How many times have you lied to me? How many times have you guilt tripped me into thinking it was my fault even though it was yours?!" "Y/N I-"

"DON'T interrupt ME while I'm TALKING!!"

It was practically trauma at that point and the clones had no one to blame but themselves. What did they expect? The pain and fear would've caught up eventually.

"I'm afraid of you... I don't love you anymore. I-I..." But even then, does she truly believe her own words? Is she that naive that she truly can't see what is wrong here?

"You put me alone in a room without a single thing but a futon and a chamberstick. You're insane...! All of you know I hate being alone! I'm afraid of being alone!! Do my endless screams and cries, begging and hitting the door entertain any of you?" Y/N hoped it wasn't true, but at this point, she was smart to know it was. Her fear entertained them. They were after all still demons and a human fearing a demon is the greatest sight and feeling a demon can get. "No-" "Don't lie to me..." He knew he needed to tell the truth eventually. "... Yes." The thick streams of tears continued more and more like a raging river crashing down a dam and flowing freely. "Get away from me..."

They can't lose you.

She was in their arms faster than she could blink. "Dewdrop... I'm sorry... Don't leave us... please." The sight of his betrothed's beautiful face stained with tears was enough to shatter Aizetsu. He didn't mean to push her this far. What kind of husband tortures his wife? Oh, how wrong they were. "Songbird, you can do anything but leave. You can scream and yell at us, hit and stab us, we will take it all with grace, but please, I beg of you don't leave. I swear on my lord's name we will be better!" The all clung onto her as if she were their lifeline. They will beg, scream and cry if they must in order to get her to stay. She cannot leave. "I'll never laugh at your tears again, I'll never make you cry. Sweet thing, don't leave. I will get on my knees if I have to..." The woman can put them all on a leash if it meant that she'd stay. They might have been all high and mighty then, but the moment she even hints at leaving for good, suddenly they're her lapdogs. It would crush them if she were to leave for good. They cannot lose that one good feeling not even they can describe. It wasn't joy or pleasure... What it was? They did not know, but it felt too good to be let go and she was the cause of this. Neither dignity or pride was no longer of importance to them, only Y/N was.

"You can put me on a leash and I'd say 'Thank you'... Do whatever you want, but you will not leave me." The lengths these psychopaths would go for one woman is near insanity. They were all demented and she was the one person keeping them sane. Possessiveness in a human can only go so far, but a demon is a new thing entirely. Considering their power, they will do what they must for their love, for that one person. They cannot leave, who said they could leave? Some may hurt them and prevent them from doing so, others may become their servants. Whatever works is what they will do. That one person is their entire life. They cannot live without that one person.

"Don't leave me, please."

No, she could never. They had gotten her too far in. She was theirs, she was already claimed by them. Y/N was going nowhere and she accepted that. Horrid as their actions may be, these man-eating demons loved her. They love her.

"I won't."

So it all starts again. Y/N goes back to them, rushing into their arms as they had hoped for. Their arms clung onto to her as if she would disappear if they didn't hold her. They hugged her tightly, not daring to let go of her in fear of her disappearing. They all told her how much they loved her, how they would sell their soul for her to be happy. The clones and their wife cuddled together for the entire night, not daring to let go of her. She was constantly met with kisses, small love bites, licks, whatever, as long as it expressed their love and affection to her.

She wouldn't ever leave them. She was theirs and it was written in stone.

Which still begs the question Sekido had asked last time.

"... Would you like to bear us a child?"

~~~~~~~

♤|•°A/N°|•♤

Yes daddy, I would love for you to breed me.

Ps: I added Zohakuten, because he too is a clone. Yes, he does see reader as his wife, but that doesn't mean he engages in those acts with reader. He loves her too, but only in a romantic sense. He has the physical build of a child, yes, but that doesn't mean it's sexual. Just thought I'd clear it up for you snowflakes out there.

#demon slayer #f!reader #fanfic #x reader #hantengu + clones #hantengu clones #hantengu clones x reader #sekido x reader #karaku x reader #aizetsu x reader #urogi x reader #zohakuten x reader #urami x reader #hantengu #sekido #karaku #aizetsu #urogi #zohakuten #urami #upper moon 4 #oneshot

[anatay004]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ɢʀᴇʏ | ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ)

After heated arguments and tensions, feelings are finally revealed, but things can only go downhill when certain words aren’t chosen correctly and misinterpretations happen.

Part 5:

warnings: Targaryen incest.

Note: I just wanted to clarify that in this piece of fiction Jacaerys is not a minor. Despite the confusion with his age throughout the show, in this story he is over 18 and so is the reader. The reader is supposed to be a little older, actually, since she’s Rhaenyra’s true sister.

Also, thanks @thesithdiaries for the help!

ꜱʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ.

ᴀ ᴄʜᴀɪʀ.

ʜᴇʀꜱᴇʟꜰ.

YOU WERE NOWHERE to be found.

After the heated argument with Jacaerys, the sun eventually settled over the bleak castle, but you were merely a ghost amongst the walls. Your handmaiden was growing anxious, she searched for you inside your chamber, she searched for you in the corridors, she searched for you in the darkest corners of the building, but there was no sight of you.

So, when her throat finally clogged with guilt, she hurried to inform Rhaenyra.

"Are you certain she's not here?" Rhaenyra questioned, her voice strangled with a hint of sheer shock and guilt altogether.

Your handmaiden nodded. "I am, your grace. I searched for her everywhere."

After hearing the news from Rhaenyra, Jacaerys was swift to deliver the command to search for you, he wanted every guard in the castle to explore the island even if the looming sky over their heads was threatening to pour down.

But then, as the night stole over the day and the clouds finally tore, Daemon broke to him the news. "Her dragon is not in the dragonpit."

His heart stopped.

"There's a fucking storm on the way," Jacaerys shouted, but his voice was muffled by the sheer blasts that ripped through the sky. "It's not safe, she is going to get hurt if she's still flying."

"We need to get inside, Jace," Daemon pushed forward, dropping a hand onto his shoulder to beckon him inside. "I'm sure she's alright, she's a fine rider, and you know it."

Jacacerys shrugged his touch away. "I'm going to look for her, Vermax is faster."

"Jace, listen to me – "

"– I will not lose her." Jacaerys declared, a hint of finality wrapped around his words as he spoke. His heart was hammering against his chest, he was on the brink of faltering at that moment – he was fucking scared.

What if you were hurt?

What if you never came back?

The questions burrowed deep beneath his chest until there was a hollow that ricocheted his fear. God, was he an idiot for making you run away.

He hated himself for mishandling his feelings. For not tethering what his heart felt to you, for not being able to act on them to dissipate the ridiculous hatred you both shared.

God, was he stupid.

But as the thoughts pestered his head and he made to walk towards the dragonpit, an enormous shadow fell upon him and he stopped when the deafening cry of your dragon roared in his eardrums. He exhaled a clouded breath as relief washed over him at the sight of your dragon landing and you on the sidesaddle.

"It's the princess!" The guards shouted as you began to climb down the dragon.

Jacaerys ran towards you, but the moment his figure stumbled into your line of vision, your dragon slithered and made to growl at him.

"It's okay, Baelor," You shouted amidst pouring rain, stretching your arm out to reach for your dragon's face to place a gentle touch. "He's rotten, he'll only make you sick if you eat him."

In another situation, Jacaerys would've felt indignant – even offended, but given the circumstances, he shut his mouth tight as he unbuttoned his coat to hold it over your head.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He demanded, trailing behind your frame as you made your way toward the castle with heavy steps. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"Good!" You shouted, trying to brush away the rain from your eyes with the back of your hand. "I'm sure that would have made you the happiest man alive!"

"Stop that – "

" – Why? I'm sure Baela would have taken my place without a heartbeat – " You spat, but the words froze on the tip of your tongue when he latched his hand onto your wrist and turned you around to face him. He was drenched, his hair was plastered over his forehead, and bits of rain clung onto his eyelashes stubbornly, but you still detected the hue that blazed his irises.

He shook his head. "She could never."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "Admit it."

A wry laugh escaped his mouth. "I could never fucking replace you. Can you not see?"

A chill kissed down your spine, you tried to coherent an answer, but the searing look in his eyes quenched down and soften. "What?"

"Please, tell me you're not fucking blind." He breathed out, a hint of pled echoed in his words as you watched with utter confusion.

"I – "

" – Get inside the fucking castle! Do you both want to die from a disease? Figure your shit inside." Daemon interjected, and just like that, the tension dissipated and you rushed inside the castle without a word.

And he watched with saddened eyes.

__________________________

"Do know how worried I was?"

After drying and changing into a clean nightgown, you leaned back in one of your room's chairs, rubbing your temples in distress. Rhaenyra was berating you, explaining the wrong behind your impulsive actions, but you did not care a bit about her lecture.

Instead, you shut your eyes. "Can we continue with this lesson tomorrow, please?"

After throwing you a look, Rhaenyra eventually nodded and closed the distance between you and her with a kiss on your head. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

You stifled a smile. "I've been told."

"We'll talk in the morning, you look rather terrible. You should rest well, sister." Rhaenyra teased, dismissing the blank expression on your face before wishing you a goodnight's sleep.

After dismissing your handmaiden and offering her an apology for the distress you had caused her, you were left alone in your chamber. You were exhausted, the drowsiness in your head made it hard for you to wallow in peace, and yet – you thought about him.

The feelings that retaliated in the pit of your stomach were hard to elucidate.

You hated him for making you feel like shit. For toying with your demure, for shooting words to kill and cornering you out of the castle.

God, did you hate him.

And yet, after tasting the tang of freedom, you turned Baelor back to Dragonstone.

Because while you could one-up Jacaerys and get under his skin, you could still make him come back to you. And, belatedly, you realized he could do the same exact thing to you.

But why?

You reeled over the question for an hour and fumbled with the strands of your hair, braiding and undoing it for the sake of keeping yourself busy. You wouldn't elucidate the matter, you ran around the same enigma without a hint of relief as you held back a breath.

What did Jacaerys mean?

When did he say you couldn't be that blind?

And he couldn't replace you?

But yet he called you a whore.

"This is stupid." You eventually whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose before deciding to climb back to your feet. Hugging your arms, you walked out of your chamber and fugitively made to walk down a few stairs as the coldness seeped into your skin.

When you were finally outside his chamber, you hesitantly raised your arm and knocked, only to falter on your spot when the door parted. Jacaerys looked terrible, the moonlit corridor uncovered the dark circles under his eyes, his nose was puffy, and his face marred with evident sickness that made worry surge through you.

"What happened to you?" You whispered, stepping inside to slide an arm behind his back and steady his body. He leaned tiredly against you, dropping an arm behind your neck as you maneuvered him back to his bed.

"I think it was the rain and the cold." He mumbled, but his voice was a rough timbre that caught you off guard. You eased him down onto his pillow, watching as his body collapsed almost immediately at the faint gesture.

"I'm going to call a healer," You rushed, trying to stifle the panic that was slipping out your mouth, but he reached for your hand to stop you.

"Please, don't," He hoarsely mumbled, tracing patterns over your hand with the pad of his thumb as he watched you with feverish eyes.

"Jace," You breathed out, unable to hide the panic that was breaking through your face. His gaze softened, however, as the nickname subconsciously ripped past your lips.

"You've never called me that before." He sluggishly pointed out.

You blinked, belatedly realizing he was right. "I-I'm sure I have done it before."

He shook his head. "I would have remembered. The bitter name sounds dulcet in the sound of your voice, like honey and summer altogether. I could never forget that."

You tried to convince yourself he was mumbling incoherences, that he was under the influence of a searing fever that was making him speak. So, you tried to ignore the faint heat that burned your cheeks. "You're speaking nonsense."

"I swear I am not," He swiftly replied, looking back at you with pure-lit irises that made you hold back your breath. "I swear I love the sound of your voice, when it wraps around vowels and turns them mellifluent, it makes me hopeful."

"I – "

" – Why can't you see it?" He questioned, his eyebrows knitted in utter confusion as you tilted your head. "I live in the shadow of your vagueness, picking up the bits of warmth you leave behind with every step you take. And yet, you dare not to look my way."

You swallowed.

He wasn't speaking nonsense.

He was throwing confessions.

"You never mentioned this before," You argued, climbing onto the bed. He looked up tiredly, trying to coherent an answer as you leaned closer to place the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're burning..."

"I'll go away in a minute," He whispered and leaned into your palm when it slide down to curve against his warm cheek. "Just stay."

You inhaled softly, brushing his skin with the pad of your fingers. He seemed so vulnerable, so different from the person you encountered just a few hours ago. His usual nonchalant facade shattered before you – he seemed kind and loving, and for a second, you believed it.

"You're so deceiving." You admitted.

He almost chuckled. "You're the one to talk."

You opened your mouth to answer, but the words clogged in your throat when he fisted a piece of your nightgown and tugged it to make you lean closer. Your breath stilled, his face was merely an inch from touching your skin.

He only looked back at you, ignoring the evident surprise that flitted across your face when he eventually shifted his head so that his lips could brush against yours. The kiss was fleeting, but it captured the warmth of denial, the clashing of two feelings, and the heat of desire that you so often tried to quench down.

"Don't ever leave," He suddenly pled, searching for your gaze when the kiss broke and you instinctively leaned back. "I'm begging you.”

Caught off guard, you whispered. "I won't."

"I apologize for the things I said about you earlier. They were horrible and untrue, and I  – " He paused, swallowing hard as your eyebrows knitted together in thought. " – Sometimes, I don't know how to handle the feelings I have for you. They're deceiving and I don't know how to control them, I really fucking don't."

The air rushed out of your lungs.

After years and years of troubling encounters and unknowing feelings, you finally realized what years of hatred failed to make you look.

He had feelings for you.

And so did you.

"I – "

"– Tomorrow you'll be my wife, anyway." He sluggishly whispered, blearily blinking in fatigue as he leaned down. "We will have all the time in the world to figure it out. Just you and I."

You smiled and draped the sheets over his body without a word. It was peculiar, the feeling that grew on your chest as he lulled himself to sleep, talking about you and him in lucid whispers. You wondered, how long had he felt that way?

But then, as you held his hand, something wounding unconsciously slipped out of his mouth. It was low, but it had strained your ears and you stilled at his sudden words. "A whore for a wife, such a silly thought I had. But can you blame me? All my life I've seen men surround you like dogs, and I've never seen you once complain about it. How could I not?"

Suddenly, as if his touch had suddenly torched your skin, you flinched away. He was half-asleep, but his words were lucid and complete, and you tried to swallow the knot that clogged your throat.

I'm so fucking stupid, you thought.

Wiping the tear that had raced down your face, you climbed back to your feet and furiously walked out the door without another word.

He could never love you.

Not like you wanted, anyway.

So, you called a healer and then made your way to your chamber with disappointment again.

#house of the dragon #daemon targeryan #hotd x reader #fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon

[brooooswriting]

Hello, I hope you have a great day <3

Jenna Ortega x female reader.

where R saves Jenna from a creepy fan/St4lk3r

They try to touch her and make her uncomfortable (kidnapping attempt if you want extreme shit) and R butts in and helps her

After that Jen has a panic attack but R finds and comforts her

by all means feel free to ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable

Situations

Situations 2, situations 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Jenna Ortega x reader

Tw: mentions of assault

Walking around California alone after sunset wasn’t always the best idea, a lot of people knew. There were people who just waited for you to not pay attention, there were men who cat called you, some who went further and there were high ones that will always try to touch you in some way. Of course there were also some normal ones that were going for a walk and some that were just high looking for the beach.

You didn’t plan on walking that far but that night the weed just hit a bit harder than normally and it was actually a really beautiful night. Riding your skateboard thru the city while gazing at the stars was beautiful and you were deep in your thoughts until you heard a shriek not far away.

You thought about ignoring it but the muffled scream that followed made you ride faster towards the sound. Even tough you were still kinda high you immediately saw what was going on, a petite brunette was cornered by some dude who towered over her. The girl caught your eye, the pleading look in her eyes made your blood boil.

“Hey, step away from the girl man” you called out as you walked further towards them. The guy wasn’t stupid, he really chose the darkest alley he could find. “This isn’t your business, so fuck off” he called out and closed in on the poor woman. “Look, I’ve had a great night until now and I really don’t feel like fighting. So why don’t you step away so I don’t have to step in even further?” You tried to be reasonable, you didn’t want to scare the girl even further.

“Why don’t you go and mind your own fucking business? The slut was clearly asking for it and the money I will make with pictures of her naked” you could hear his smirk and that was the moment you were done being reasonable. You walked closer until you could grab his shoulder to pull him around. The fist that collided with his face broke his nose before pushing him to the ground. After kicking him once more for good measure you turned to the brunette who was still pressed against the wall.

“Are you alright hun?” You asked carefully, keeping your distance so you wouldn’t scare her. Slowly extending your hand in case she wanted some comfort. It took a minute before she took your hand. Softly grabbing her hand you pulled her into the light where you first noticed two things; one: the girl seemed familiar, two: she was breathing heavily and had tears streaming down her face.

“It’s alright, I’m here and he won’t be able to get to you again alright?” You looked at her with concern in your eyes, your thumb rubbing over her hand. “I’m sorry but you seem familiar… what’s your name darling?” Her breathing started to pick up again which caused you to quickly wrap her in your arms. “It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me. Take a breath with me ok? In…. And out” carefully guiding her to take deep breaths while rubbing her back.

When she calmed down a bit she pulled away and mumbled “Jenna Ortega” and watched the wheels in your head turn. “You’re the chick from the new series… Wednesday, right?” You finally asked, a bit embarrassed that you didn’t recognize her immediately. She nodded grinning up at you “you’re pretty high huh?” She giggled when you nodded scratching the back of your neck.

Her giggling quickly stopped when you heard a groan and saw the guy from before coming out of the alley trying to grab the girl again. You pushed her behind you before stretching yourself so you could tower over the guy. “I told you to leave her alone didn’t I?” You smirked before hitting him again but this time way harder. He fell to the ground again.

You quickly called the police before turning to the girl who seemed to be gone. Confused you looked around until you saw her sitting pressed up against the wall with her legs against her chest and her face buried between her knees. “Jenna?” You carefully whispered as you came closer. The girl didn’t even look up which caused you to worry even more, “Jenna!” You said a bit louder and crouched down in front of her.

The soft touch on her knee seemed to get her out of her trance, her hands were shaking and sweaty, her breath shallow and her face covered in tears and ruined mascara. “Oh darling, it’s alright. The police will be here soon and until then I’m protecting you” you reassured her holding out your hands again. Her shaking hands touched your steady ones which seemed to calm her a bit. “I’m gonna put one of your hands on my heart to calm you a bit. Is that okay?” You whispered out which caused her to nod.

With her hand on your heart, your other hand brushing thru her hair and the constant whisper of reassurances it took around 10 minutes to calm her down. “There we go, pretty girl” you said in a low voice while your hands came to her face so your thumbs could wipe away the tear stains on her face. She giggled slightly which caused you to smile.

Jenna was exhausted. Exhausted and confused, how could a girl that she just met make her feel so safe and valid? It was scary but at the same time it felt right, just right.

She couldn’t help but lean her head onto your shoulder when you decided to move from in front of her to sit next to her. “Thank you” she mumbled out while looking straight ahead. “No need for that”

A couple of minutes later the police came. The whole time you didn’t leave Jenna alone, her hand was clawing at yours every time you tried to give her space. “So what exactly happened miss Ortega?” One of the cops asked her as he pulled out a paper. “I was trying to get some steps in and as I walked along the street I was pushed into the alley, the man… he cornered me. Then he…he tr…his hands….” She started to cry again so you decided to step in. “I think you can guess what happened next” you told him squeezing the girls hand.

After everything was done the police took the guy away and you were, again, left alone with the actress. She looked around nervously and when you tried to Step a bit away her hand immediately shot out to grab your wrist. “Wait… can you walk me home?” Her voice got progressively lower but you could still understand her. “I wasn’t going to let you walk alone, just getting my skateboard, darling” you could see a light blush forming on her cheeks before you kicked up the board.

“Lead the way hun” you fell into step next to her. The whole way you guys talked, it felt nice. It’s been a while since Jenna met someone who didn’t treat her any differently because of her popularity. But you saved her even before you knew who she was. It felt nice, great even.

“I live here” she said when you stopped in front of a house. “Alright Jenna, it was nice to meet you. Really sucky way to meet you but still” you told her rubbing the back of your neck again. A habit when you were nervous. You wanted to ask if you could get her number but you were scared that she would feel like she had to because you saved her.

“Can I have your phone for a sec?” She asked as you were still overthinking the whole situation. Still in trance you gave her your phone only snapping back to reality when she pushed in back to you. “Text me ok?” She leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the door. “Thanks again for saving me” she said and disappeared into the house.

You stood there still shocked about what just happened. Opening your phone you saw a new contact ‘Jenna <3’ you were grinning stupidly as you put your phone away and rode back home.

The moment your back hit the bed you pulled out your phone again.

Jenna<3

You: hey it’s y/n

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader

[antmightpost]

A Character Analysis on Megumi Fushiguro from a Jungian perspective- The Shadow

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify all that is impure"

Megumi has been consistently portrayed as someone who really struggles with his self worth or his sense of self but there have been instances when he starts behaving in a really confident and assertive manner.

In order to better understand Megumi we need to look at his background. He was basically raised by Tsumiki with Gojo acting as his guardian at times. At a time when a child's personality develops, he had to make a deal with Gojo to work as a Sorcerer in exchange for Tsumiki's safety.

As a child, he had to come to terms with the idea that his father is somewhere out there but he has been abandoned by him when we know this wasn't the case. Toji did his best to look out for Megumi but he couldn't be close to him because he was fearful of the type of influence he would be on Megumi.

When Gojo tried to tell Megumi about his father, he himself stopped Gojo, acting as if it doesn't matter but that's a literal child, why wouldn't it matter, yet he refrained from trying to know the truth about Toji out of fear. Fear of what if the truth is even worse than being abandoned by his own father.

What did the most damage to Megumi was hearing from Gojo that Toji kept him hidden from the zenins to use him as a trump card against them as if he was just a commodity with value , who he is , is just about what is the value of his technique. His own potential crushed him, in a sense took his childhood away from him and halted his personal development.

Even Gojo mostly interacted with him in a manner where it looked like he is more worried about Megumi not being strong enough than trying to understand and talk to him about who Megumi is and who he wants to be which isn't because Gojo didn't want to , he just didn't knew how to. Gojo met Megumi at a time when he himself lost all sense of his identity and didn't knew how to relate and understand others on a deep personal level.

THIS led to the creation of the biggest divide between the persona (ego) and the unconscious (shadow) in Megumi's psyche. The mask that Megumi wears to face the society stored all the aspects of his personality that he doesn't deem good or worthy in his shadow, including his 'Potential' and feelings which is why Megumi looks so emotionally detached from everything . He has locked up his emotions in his shadow, he tries to rationalize everything without accounting for the feeling behind it and thats why his "instincts" are dull.

Megumi's persona Megumi's shadow It's because he felt like an empty vessel with a technique that he objectified the only person he looked up to, Tsumiki. He viewed her more as someone whose goodness and purity needs to be protected than as an individual, he didn't let her reach him, himself acknowledged how immature he was, all a result of the deeply traumatized 'inner child'.

It's interesting how inner child was also used for a character who was introduced during Megumi's colony fight, Takaba. Both Megumi and Takaba ignored the "inner child" within them, except with Megumi, his ignorance is the result of an absence of childhood.

Megumi's fixation on saving Tsumiki got to a point where his own shadow took Tsumiki's form or this could actually be Tsumiki's own shadow that is connected to Megumi. The Shadow that influences him yet he isn't aware of its existence.

What Megumi is going through is described as "Dark night of the soul" in philosophical terms. It is the longest and darkest night of the soul where the soul is at its lowest, the will to exist ceases, however it is also the moment where divine light shines above oneself to guide them out of their suffering (How Gege depicted Megumi's condition). I think it's important that Megumi's birthday is on 22nd Dec ( winter solstice) the longest night of the year which in Japanese is called 'Toji' . Perhaps some intentionality on Gege's part to show how Toji is the core of Megumi's trauma.

Dark night of the soul But what lies ahead ? I believe the process of 'Individuation' , theorized by Carl Jung it's the process by which a person achieves psychic wholeness, recognizing his innermost uniqueness and he identified this process with becoming one's own self Or Self realization. It's the merging of the Persona and the Shadow

A personal "Merger" of sorts in Jjk's context and i believe Megumi's arc had already been foreshadowed in chap 47 through the introduction of 'Totality'. The 2 divine dogs represent the dual aspects of Megumi's Self. The White Divine dog is the Ego or Persona, first the ego dies but it doesn't disappear , it dissolves into the existing shadow (Black Divine dog), merging with it to create the 'whole' of SELF 'with no boundaries' between the Ego and his Shadow (Fate)

Totality (Individuation or merger of Persona and Shadow)

Ego death The shadow self In order to find his life , Megumi first needs to lose it. He needs to bring forth his Deepest shadows and stop suppressing them because the True self is not Black and White, it's a hint of Grey. It's not just Tsumiki or Yuji who are good and pure , His own shadow that he deems evil has purity as well This personal merger is the route to 'Love' , Love of the self. To stop ignoring the inner child and his own shadow that Megumi has suppressed constantly . To stop looking for Logic behind everything as he is a human, we value our feelings, they are our fuel.

The dormant feelings that need to be realized and this is where Yuji comes in. When he says he wants to save Megumi , it's not because of Megumi's value or his technique, it's because he genuinely cares about who Megumi is and wants him to grow out this personal nightmare.

This can lead to Megumi conversing with his shadow and realizing that people do care about him and he needs to show the same care to his shadow and let it invoke the feeling within him Ultimately Megumi is a product of this 'cycle of curses', being the son of Toji who was himself deeply traumatized and Gojo being his guardian who himself was never whole. Gege always tries to explore the Self, the person that was Satoru Gojo, the person that is Megumi Fushiguro, not "the Strongest" or "The wasted potential"

This is why I think Gege has masterfully constructed Megumi's character in a real subtle manner. He never really talks about himself or how he feels and that leads to a big chunk of the fanbase paying no attention to who he is as a character and only focusing on his potential which is Megumi's EXACT problem. What's interesting is that i always thought of this sort of individual merger for Megumi's arc but now he holds the keys to the completion of the merger between Tengen and Non Sorcerers in Japan as well . Gege always knows what he's doing !!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jujutsu kaisen meta

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Emily Prentiss x Reader Headcanons

Mostly SFW, but a few lil spicy ones throughout (below the line).

Chews on pens/pencils when she's anxious or deep in thought and it's inexplicably hot.

Has a glass of very nice, very expensive red wine every night.

Fluent in Arabic, French, Spanish, and Italian. Passable in Russian.

Seems quiet and mysterious at first but is actually just a huge dork.

Breaks down crying every time before starting her period and will say, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so emotional today," and you're like... "Babe, don't you start tomorrow?"

Usually a no-strings-attached-sex kind of person, mostly because relationships are hard with her job. You're the exception.

Will fold like a wet napkin for nice chocolate.

Notorious for ghosting lol. Sometimes even used a fake name. A bad habit from her undercover days.

Not subtle at all when coming on to you. Pretty much asked you for a date out of the blue.

Loves that you can talk about the deep, dark stuff, but can also make her laugh like no one else.

If for any reason you wake up in the night–stomachache, nightmare, scary storm–she is up with you. She'll claim she can't sleep either, but really she just wants to hold you and make sure you get back to sleep okay.

Watches you breathe at night. She finds it deeply comforting.

Takes you once a year to her grandfather’s cottage in the French Alps, where she spent a lot of time growing up.

Grew up Catholic. She’s not religious anymore, but sometimes she still likes to listen to old hymns and chants, like they had at the mass she and her mom attended in Italy.

Opens every door for you always. In fact, she’ll be hurt if you don’t let her open the door.

An incredibly good listener. She loves hearing about your day, no matter how mundane it was, because her days are usually filled with the darkest, most horrific things.

Has two tattoos. (1) On her ankle. A word from the Qur’an (لِّتَسۡكُنُوۡۤ) that roughly translates to “that you may find tranquility.” She got it in Italy when she started to realize she liked girls, because girls were the only people in whom she ever found tranquility. (2) On her hip. A small asterisk a la Kurt Vonnegut.

Insanely protective. She will not let anyone touch you, say anything to you, even look at you with nefarious intentions.

Has a little note on her phone where she writes down your favorite things–takeout, flowers, ice cream flavors, the brand of tampons you use–so she'll always remember.

“Call me when you get there.” Has to know where you are at all times. You gave up arguing and just constantly have your phone location shared with her. It’d be suffocating except that, given her job, it makes sense.

Loves that you are so independent. She’s watched too many BAU relationships fall apart because their partner was frustrated with the demanding BAU work schedule. You don’t really mind. Of course, you miss her, but you also really like your alone time, so things balance out nicely.

Puzzle fiend. There’s almost always a puzzle going on the coffee table.

Queen of leaving people on read. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that texts usually fall by the wayside when she’s in the field.

Secretly loves it so much when you brag about her. She’ll act all embarrassed about it, but it means a lot that you’re proud of her.

A hipster in the sense that if something is popular, she automatically decides she doesn’t like it. You make fun of her a lot for this.

Falls in love with you every time she notices one of your little gestures–having a second go-bag packed and ready at all times, doing the laundry, packing little granola bars in her purse because you know she forgets to stop for lunch, returning books to the library for her, etc.

Incredibly stubborn. Thankfully, you are, too, so you’re well-matched. On the downside, sometimes it takes forever to make a decision because neither of you are willing to back down.

Swears like a sailor when she’s not at work.

Kind of quiet with other people, but will talk with you late into the night, until you fall asleep. You love that you get to fall asleep to her voice.

Touches you like you’re made of gold, like you were made to be cherished and held on to.

Cheek/nose/forehead kisses. all. the. time.

Kisses you good morning and good night, every time, no matter when she gets home or when she leaves.

You would never guess it, but she lives for gossip. She doesn’t want to be part of the drama, but she sure as hell wants to know about it.

Drives her wild (in bed and out) that you are 100% hers. It is not in your nature to cheat, you are wholly devoted to your person, and she is over the moon that she’s that person.

Acts like a top, is a top.

Can drink coffee at midnight and be conked out twenty minutes later.

After a particularly hard case, she’ll come home and want to just hold you really tight against her chest, sometimes for an hour or more. You always let her.

Big spoon, always. She likes to feel like she’s keeping you safe.

Favorite food is the sweet potato burrito from Muchas Gracias, but they only have them at lunch and she is never in DC at lunchtime, so sometimes you go buy her one and pack it for her for lunch the next day. It makes her day every time.

Honestly it’s a struggle when you have to get up before her because she has you in a ninja death grip that is almost impossible to get out of.

Her feet are always cold, so she has a huge collection of fuzzy socks.

Movie buff. Has a giant checklist of all the Oscar noms during awards season, and you watch one almost every night she’s home.

Loves to shower with you. You will get clean, but you’ll get fucked first.

A wizard with a wand (iykwim).

She still gets butterflies when you hold hands.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss hcs #emily prentiss headcanons #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds hcs

[spooky-pomegranate]

Light in Darkness

Captain Price x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Price grapples with the duality of himself. On one hand, he is a violent protector and fearsome leader but on the other, he is a man desperately aching for love. Can you reconcile his two halves?

A sweet song played over the radio in Price’s office. You hummed along softly as you tapped away on your laptop. Your eyes were glued to a series of black-and-white numbers and letters on your screen. Price watched from the couch as the blue light from your computer washed your face in a pretty and ethereal glow. It was like watching a siren luring sailors to their demise with an enchanting song. Price couldn’t tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful.

For years he never thought something like this was possible. He never thought he would find someone to make him feel this way. This soft, this sweet, this vulnerable. Fuck. There it was again, that pang deep inside his chest.

He had been big, bad, and scary Captain John Price for so long that he had given up on another part of himself entirely… the side of him that was absolutely starved for tenderness. The side of him that loved to love. And god did John Price love to love. He loved dreaming about love. He loved falling in love. He loved being in love.

He always knew this about himself. Surrendering to another always felt right and good in ways that nothing else could compare.

But the world Price lived in for the past 15 years didn't allow for much of that. And so for all the time, that softer sweeter part of Price was by his own accord neglected. There were more important things he needed. He needed to be strong, to be tough, to be an impenetrable wall of iron and steel. He needed to be all the things that his enemies would fear so he could keep the men in his care alive. And so he pushed the softer parts of himself aside. He cast himself in stone and became guarded, as he turned himself into a dark force of violence and terror.

He hid his longing, his desperation, and his aching desire for love. And Price convinced himself that he was fine that way. Alone. Sheltered. Unexposed. Unloved.

But then there was you.

You.

Sweet, loving, smart, and tender you.

He should have known from the first time that he saw your eyes he was going to fall in love. It was never going to be a choice. You consumed him entirely and completely from the second he saw you.

And here you were sitting behind his desk amongst his things like you always belonged… like you were meant to be here…like you were meant to be his. You were a reminder that Price was indeed a man capable of love and care. After all, you’d seen the darkest parts of him and you still looked at him like he was the sun.

And fucking hell did that feel good.

Price continued to watch as you absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair, your eyes still fixated on the computer in front of you. It had been at least an hour since either of you had spoken. But Price didn’t mind the quiet. He was happy to sit here and watch you. He’d be happy anywhere with you.

Over the last week and a half, you had fallen effortlessly into a routine. You spent your mornings training with Soap and Ghost in the gym and in the afternoons you’d shoot with Gaz in the range. But the evenings… the evenings were Price’s favorite because you’d spend them here with him.

It wasn’t always like this. Silent and still. There were many nights when you talked until the early morning, and unabashedly, there were also several late evenings where Price couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So far he’d already taken you on his desk, his couch, and standing up against his bookcase. The latter might have been his favorite even if you both had broken a handful of framed photos in the process. But lately, you had been spending more time on your laptop. You were working on developing a counter-program, something that could combat the enhanced EMP the enemy had gotten their hands on. It was complicated work and as badly as Price wanted to help you, he couldn’t. What you were doing was well beyond his technical skills and he would only slow you down if he tried to help. So he sat and he watched, in content and blissful silence.

“You’re staring at me,” you said, without bothering to look up from your screen.

“Sorry, love.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah…” he paused taking a deep breath, “I’m just thinking about how happy you make me.”

You picked your head up and flashed him a smile. God, he loved how your face lit up when you did that. It reminded him of the sun rising on a cold winter’s morning, its rays stretching and warming everything it touched.

“You make me happy too, Price.”

“When this is all over what do you say to a holiday? Just you and I alone somewhere.”

“Somewhere warm?” you asked with a soft lilt to your voice.

“Anywhere you want.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and the sound made Price’s heart skip. “I’d like that a lot.”

He wondered how you did that. How you got him to surrender his armor and put down his walls without ever asking him to?

How did you make him feel safe while also making him feel incredibly vulnerable? How did you find his heart underneath all his layered defenses? He wasn’t sure he’d ever know the answer. But there was one thing Price knew for certain. You were a light in darkness and he would do anything to protect you.

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(More from this story)

#call of duty #captain price #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #cod #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fic